Guilt
by starryjen
Summary: Guilt over what happened to Ray and Michael makes Neela question her own place in the universe. Chapter 16 Spoilers for Season finale 13x23 and Season 14x1
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. I've been working on this for sometime now (since April), it stemmed from a one shot that I wrote which I've expanded backwards to make it a more complete tale. I've got a touch of writers block regarding 24 Hours in the ER and Orange Juice not Champagne, they're both running in the same direction and have lost touch with reality. However this is pretty much written (though I keep re-writing large sections). I'm still not sure which ending to go with so your reviews will have the ability to influence me!**

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_Six months had passed since my accident. I was no longer the person I was before, it was a cliché to say but I was a shadow of my former self, physically and mentally. With each day that passed I'd distanced myself slightly more from my friends and colleagues._

_It started with an excuse not to go for a drink after a particularly gruelling shift. It had been one of those bleak days where I'd woken up to a grey, dismal world that mirrored my emotions and with each moment that passed the greyness had eaten into my soul so that by the end of my shift all I'd wanted was to crawl into my bed and hope that sleep would alleviate the gloomy pressure in my heart. I didn't want to be around people, I didn't want to have to be the person they expected me to be. I couldn't pretend anymore. I came up with an excuse that night not to join them. That one excuse made the ones that followed easier._

_All my days started, and ended, with me feeling the same way, so I slowly, subconsciously, found myself pulling away from my friends. To start with it was the odd drink, then I stopped socialising after work; I stopped returning phone calls, which progressed into not answering my phone. I became too busy to grab a coffee between patients; I no longer hung around the ER after consults. My phone slowly stopped ringing, the invites were offered less frequently and then slowly dried up completely. I had slowly and effectively pushed them all away. I became reclusive, my only sanctuary my work. It was my world, that and the phone number for the only person I wanted but who no longer seemed to want me._

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'Lucien, it's Neela, I'm sorry I can't come in, I just need some time, I don't… look I'm sorry there's nothing I can do' he listened to the message on his voicemail, but the anger he should have felt at her words didn't appear, instead worry seeped into his bones. Her voice was distant, hollow, as if it had taken all her energy to say those few words, as if she didn't really know what she was saying.

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_I only strayed as far as the kitchen that day, as the months had passed I'd found solace in the bottom of many bottles of wine, beer and tequila, anything that helped transport me to oblivion, to stop the thoughts, the fear, the guilt from circulating in my mind. I didn't descend to this level of hell slowly, it had been a sudden fall, the deep chasm opening and swallowing me the moment I saw the bitterness in Ray's eyes and the impenetrable seal of guilt that prevented my escape only thickened every time I heard the hatred in his voice. But it wasn't just his hatred that I was dealing with; I could never feel that as strongly as I felt my own self-hatred. Hatred and guilt over the fact that I could have prevented his accident if I hadn't been so willing to follow my sane, level minded head, instead of my heart. My head got me into this mess, it told me to marry Michael, the safe choice, it told me not to trust Ray when Michael died and it continued to tell me to hold him at arms length and look where that got me. But both my head and my heart were in agreement that there was no way out of this hell, he would never forgive me and why should he, when I knew I could never forgive myself._

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'Dr Lockhart, Dr Pratt, a word please' Dr Lucien Dubenko, the curly haired, bespeckled, Chief of Surgery, was demanding their attention on a rare appearance in the ER. 'I know you used to be good friends with Dr Rasgotra. I need to know if you are aware of any problems she might have been having recently. I know you're both busy people but I've become increasingly concerned about her behaviour and felt that you might be able to enlighten me'

'Lucien, Neela is still my friend' the surgeon raised his eyes in surprise 'though I've not seen much of her recently with Luka being away and looking after Joe I've hardly had a moment to myself' Abby shrugged an apology and pushed a long, dark strand of hair behind her ear, but the thoughts had started to twist in her mind.

'Don't sweat it, she'd come and talk to me if she was having problems and she hasn't, she's okay, trust me' Pratt added.

'Really? This conduct is so unlike her, especially over the last few months, if there's anyone you could rely on its been Neela, if there was a shift that needed covering she'd do it. But she's not been in all week, she phoned on Monday to say she need some time and I've not been able to get hold of her since' he sighed, scratching his head.

'Sounds to me like she's had something she's needed to do. Are you sure you're not worrying over nothing?' Pratt smirked, bemused by the surgeon's obvious feelings for his intern.

'Like what Dr Pratt? You didn't hear her message on Monday, did you? The hollow, distant sound to her voice? All she's been doing for the last six months is working, she signs up for every shift going, she's been sleeping in the surgeon's lounge between shifts, I'm certain she's not got anything else in her life except her work. You haven't watched her retreat further and further into her shell, you haven't smelt the alcohol fumes on her breath and clothes the last few weeks, have you? She's not taking caring of herself, surely you've noticed how gaunt she is, the dark shadows around her eyes' he paused, looking at them both with despair, and sighed again 'you haven't, have you? And you call yourselves her friends; I have more caring enemies'

Abby's stomach somersaulted with anxiety at his words. She stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her lab coat, she hadn't seen any of these signs, come to think of it she'd hardly seen Neela for ages. 'I've still got a key to her apartment, I'll go round after my shift finishes to see her, check she's okay'


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The names of characters contained herein are the property of the copyright holder of "ER." No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and said characters are used here without permission. I've rewritten this part so many times that I can't remember how it originally was! Hope you enjoy, reviews please.

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'I've been trying to tell you people that something's wrong with her for months' Gates butted in.

Abby knew he was right; she'd ignored him every time he'd tried to mention it. She'd thought it was his way of getting back into Neela's graces after she'd split up with him all those months before. But could he actually be right, could he have seen what she, her best friend, couldn't? Her stomach was tied up in knots, which Neela was doing nothing to ease with her refusal to pick up the phone.

After much discussion and raised voices between various members of the ER, Abby and Pratt found themselves on her doorstep a few hours later. Greg firmly rapped his knuckles on the door. They stood there waiting for Neela to open it but she didn't. Abby slid her key into the lock, but it felt like there were keys on the other side, locking Neela in, and them out.

'Look if there's a key in the lock she's obviously in and okay, I say we just give her some time, leave her be' he turned as if to walk away down the corridor.

'Greg, I'm worried about her, Lucien's right, this isn't like her, I think we should call the police' she knew that he didn't believe that anything was wrong, but she did. It felt like her stomach was doing back flips, and the more she thought about it the more worried she became.

'What are they going to do? They'd just say you were overreacting' but it was slowly dawning on him that Abby and Dubenko, and even Gates, were right, this wasn't normal behaviour for Neela.

'I could…' he gestured at the door with his shoulder.

Abby looked at him in disbelief, she couldn't believe that they would have to resort to brute force. 'God, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this' she gave Greg a despairing look 'but I don't know what else we _can_ do, just be careful'

He stepped back loosening his tie. With all his weight behind him he took a run at the door and with the crack of wood, the grinding of metal and a groan it flew open. A strong smell of stale air, rotten food and alcohol hit them. Pratt's face screwed up in distaste, he looked across at Abby and saw the trepidation in her eyes. The curtains were closed and there were no lights on, which only added to the abandonment. The only sign that the apartment was inhabited was the faint sound of music filtering through from the bedroom. Abby flicked the light switch. The place was a mess; old takeaway cartons and dirty plates piled up around the kitchen area, flies circling them. Empty bottles of tequila, wine, and beer scattered across the floor. They stood there in stunned silence, the realisation of how much they'd neglected Neela, and how she'd neglected herself, rapidly sinking in.

'We need to check the bedroom' Abby said decisively, what she'd seen so far could only be an indicator of the state that would be in.

Her nostrils were assaulted by the strong smell, while her eyes took in the sight in from of her, when she pushed the door open. Neela was lying on the bed, an empty bottle of tequila on the cover beside her. The rest of the surface was littered with photographs, letters, and a phone. A CD was playing on repeat, she recognised the voice but couldn't place where from.

Greg pushed past her and moved cautiously across the room to Neela's side with Abby following close behind. As he got nearer he could see the faint rise and fall of her chest. Her skin had a blue tinge to it and was bloated and clammy looking. He touched her shoulder but she didn't respond. He gave her a shake, calling her name, but she still didn't react. He repeated his actions numerous times but her shallow breathing was the only sign that she was alive. He felt for her pulse, it was weak but racing, and when he pushed back her eyelids they revealed pupils that were dilated and reacted poorly to the light in the room. Looking at his watch, he counted her breaths, seven a minute, not enough. These symptoms, which were classic signs of alcohol poisoning, and the bottle of tequila beside her, caused his heart to race. He looked up at Abby 'we need to get her to County'

Abby pulled out her phone, and with shaking hands, started to call for an ambulance, but he stopped her.

'It'll be quicker if we take her, my car's out front, I'll drive, we'll get there faster than they can get here' it was foolish, and went against what they both knew they should do, which was call for the paramedics, but his guilt was eating away at him, and as a doctor he felt he knew best. However, before he did anything else he picked up the telephone and pressed some buttons, if he was right...

She looked at him quizzically as he looked at the screen on the phone 'What _are_ you doing?'

'Abby, look around, this wasn't accidental; she intended to do this, she didn't mean for anyone to find her. We need to know if she called anyone before she did it' his face turned grey as he put the phone down, it wasn't who he'd expected.

'And? Did she?' Her mind couldn't quite follow where he was going with this.

'Yeah, she called Ray Barnett a few hours ago' he pulled Neela into his arms, one arm under her legs, one around her shoulders and lifted her as if she weighed less than a bag of sugar, her head flopping back against his shoulder as he rose.

'What? Ray? But no one's heard from him in months' she watched as a shadow briefly crossed his face 'Greg?'

He sighed 'I have, but I promised I wouldn't say anything' he made his way back out of the room, carrying Neela.

'Greg, what's going on?' before she left the room she remembered to turn the CD off, and as she was about to flick the switch, it clicked, Ray, the person who was singing was Ray. As she leant over a photograph on the bed caught her eye, it was of Neela and Ray, and as she looked more carefully she saw that all the photographs featured Ray or Michael and her mind started to work overtime.

'I'll explain on the way' his voice drifted through from the other room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER, wish I did, I'd put things right. This chapter's a bit shorter than the rest, and the scene didn't even exist until Friday when I realised it was needed to explain things. Remember reviews are like chocolate, addictive, so please review!**

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'Did anyone ever tell you what happened at your wedding?' he glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

'What do you mean, what happened at my wedding? What's that got to do with this?' Her gaze never left Neela.

'The fight?' another glance revealed that she was looking at him in surprise 'between Ray and Gates over her? I don't know if its got anything to do with all this but…'

'You've lost me, what are you talking about? There was a fight?' she placed her fingers on Neela's neck and felt for her pulse, it was still rapid but weak.

'Ray was pretty drunk, I think something had happened between Neela and him earlier in the evening, though I'm not sure' he paused while he signalled to turn right. 'Gates said some things, he said some things back, they threw a few punches. Morris and I pulled them apart' he glanced at her again 'I took Ray outside and told him to go home' he paused again.

'What else happened?' It was apparent from his voice that that wasn't all.

'He didn't go home; he went to a bar, continued drinking, and when he eventually left he was hit by a truck. They had to do a double below knee amputation' he saw her turn pale.

'Shit, poor guy, is he okay?' she rolled her eyes 'Stupid question I guess, how's he doing? _Where_ is he? Why's this the first time you've mentioned this?'

'He's getting there. A lot better than he was a few months ago. His mom took him home, back to Baton Rouge; he's been there for the last six months' he stopped as a van cut in front of him.

'I've been down twice to visit, the first time was really hard, he was swinging between denial that anything had happened, and thinking that his life was over. Man, it was soul destroying to see him like that.'

'I can't imagine what he's gone through, god he's not even had the support of his friends here. You said you've been twice, how was he then?' She was stroking Neela's hair partly to calm her own thoughts, she felt like she'd been living in a parallel universe for the last six months where none of these things had happened. Her own problems seemed so unimportant when faced with what Ray had been through.

'Last time was a few weeks ago, he seemed to be accepting it, he's walking with prosthetics, but it's hard to see, he used to be so laid back and at ease, now everything's an effort. But he'll get there; he's stubborn enough. He's convinced that there's no reason that one day he won't return to County as an ER doc'

She again looked up at him in surprise, but when she thought about it, there was no reason why not.

You have to admire him, especially when you think how far he's come since he first started, remember we called him Dispo Doc' he half smirked, and she laughed, but his smile faded fast 'I didn't say anything because he made me swear not to tell anyone, he didn't want any pity. You have to understand, Abby, I blame myself for what happened. I knew how he felt about her, I could see how cut up he was that night, I should have put him in a cab, not let him wander off alone. I had to keep that promise, I owed him that much at least'

'But' she fell silent, trying to process her thoughts 'why did she ring him then?'

'I really don't know, he doesn't mention her, everyone else, but not her. I didn't even know they were still in touch'

'So why are you breaking your promise now?' Her mind was reeling from all the revelations that the day had brought.

'Because I've let her down as well, I promised Mike that if anything happened to him that I would look out for her, I haven't done that'

'Neither have I' she murmured.

He continued as if he hadn't heard her. 'You can see the state she's in, you saw her apartment, something serious is going on with her, and she's going to need all the support she can get. He might be able to help'


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Here's the next instalment, there's some medical jargon in it, but I think it fits with the character. Lots of people have asked when Ray's going to appear and this morning I would have replied the chapter after next, but I've just planned two more scenes and I'm not sure where they're going to fit in. So all I can say is that he will appear at some point! I'm craving reviews, so please, please review!**

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_I don't think I'd ever felt as bad as I did when I woke up that day, even after my accident I didn't feel that bad. It was like my worst hangover magnified by ten, worse than that. My head was spinning and throbbing, my stomach felt like a bubbling cauldron and it was all the more painful because I'd had no intention of waking up. No one was meant to find me, to save me. I felt like I should be thanking Abby and Greg for rescuing me, that it was expected of me, when in fact I was cursing them, because they'd thrown me back into this crushing abyss of pain and guilt. I couldn't thank anyone for that. _

_I read my chart later, of course I did, I saw that they'd treated me with an activated charcoal solution to neutralise anything poisonous that I might have taken, there __**was**__ only alcohol but they would have done that just in case, and to prevent any more of the alcohol entering my blood stream. It was too far absorbed by then to make pumping my stomach viable, and for that I was grateful, it was the one small mercy that day. They did all the usual tests: U+E, lab glucose, lactate and osmal gap. and hooked me up to an IV to raise my fluid levels to stop me becoming dehydrated. When they'd brought me in I'd been suffering from mild hypothermia, a fairly common symptom of alcohol poisoning I remembered from my ER days, a few more hours and they wouldn't have been able to save me. How I wished I'd had those extra hours._

_The effects of the alcohol confused me and I kept expecting Ray to appear in the ER, even though it was six months since he'd left. I still expected to see him, in fact I craved it, but I dreaded it too, because seeing him would mean hearing the hatred in his voice and seeing the bitterness in his eyes and I could stand that even less than not seeing him. It's ironic that as soon as he wasn't there I realised how much he meant to me, I guess I'd assumed that he would always be in my life. His number was the only one in my phone that I rang anymore; he was the only person that I wanted to talk to. I'd rung him the night before, I don't know what I'd thought it would achieve, perhaps if he'd offered his forgiveness I wouldn't have pushed it so far, I'm not sure. To be honest I think I'd gone too far by then, I think all I really wanted that night was to hear his voice one last time, to tell him how sorry I was and how much I cared. To say goodbye without quite saying the words. But, as usual, he disconnected the call before I uttered a sound and again I died a little bit more. That's how much pain I caused him, he wouldn't even listen to my voice._

_It was a no win situation, I knew I would never be free of him because the guilt I felt over his accident, and how I'd treated him before it, would hang over everything I did for the rest of my life. But I didn't want to be free of him either, I wanted him to be a part of my life, I couldn't stand for him not to be a part of it. I just didn't know how make it right._

_I hated that everyone in the ER was seeing me like that, and, most likely, judging me without knowing the full, sorry tale. I knew that they would all see me as the alcoholic 'would be' surgeon, the girl who could spout medical journals but who didn't love her husband enough, the friend who punished her best friend for the guilt she felt, not someone who was struggling under the weight of two years of grief and hatred, and if I'm honest, self pity. They could never understand that, because I'd promised Ray that I wouldn't tell them what had happened to him. With hindsight I should have done so, perhaps it would have been easier to bear if I'd been able to talk about my guilt. But I couldn't break my promise, it was the one thing I could do for him. _

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'Dr Pratt can I have a word outside?' Katey was once again on ER duty. After her rotations, she'd been offered a place in the Psych team, and now spent much of her working day in the ER. 

The exam room doors swung shut 'Look, I think we need to admit her for a few days…'

'No!' she turned to look at him.

'Sorry, what are you saying Dr Pratt? She's tried to kill herself, we need to take this seriously'

'I know that Dr Alvaro, believe me I know it, it's just…'

'It's just what? She needs help, we can monitor her, get her on meds, start therapy sessions. She needs professional help. You said' she looked hard at him 'that her apartment was a state, that she wasn't looking after herself, Dr Dubenko says she's been running herself into the ground upstairs, this was a cry for help, we can't ignore it' she picked up the telephone to call the Psych ward to admit her, but he grabbed the receiver from her and slammed it down.

'No, what she needs is her friends around her, looking after her, we can get her better' medically he knew she should be admitted, but as her friend he couldn't let that happen, he owed it to her, he'd already let her down so much.

'What friends? The ones who deserted her when she needed them?'

'That's uncalled for' but he knew it wasn't 'what about you? You're better placed to notice the signs than the rest of us. You're just as much in the wrong!'

'That's different and you know it!' The volume was rising in the corridor. She pulled herself up to her full height, hands on her hips. He was a supposed friend of Neela's; she remembered that much from when she was on her surgical rotation, back when she'd thought Neela and her could be friends; before she'd let things with Ray come between them. She just couldn't understand why he was fighting her on this. 'What _are_ you proposing then, Dr Pratt?'

He deflated, what _was _he proposing? To be honest he didn't know, he just didn't want her stuck in here, on display to everyone. It was clear she couldn't stay on her own; Abby had her hands full with Joe. There wasn't really anyone else apart from him. He would have to look after her 'she'll stay with me, I'll look after her, get her through this'

'She needs professional help. Are you saying that you can give her that? Are you willing to make the sacrifices that that will entail? This isn't looking after someone who's broken a leg, this is serious. It needs to be done right'

'She's my best friends widow, I care about her, she's like family, I would do anything to make sure she's okay' and he would, when Mike had died he'd made a promise to himself that he would look after her, and it was clear to him that he'd neglected that promise over the last few months, maybe even longer, and the guilt was eating him up inside.

'If you're sure, and I can't convince you otherwise, I'll have to accept that. She'll have to come in for cognitive therapy sessions and I'll prescribe some antidepressants, we'll need to keep an eye on the dosage, you know it can take a while to get it right. You'll need to make sure she takes them' she paused 'I'll need you to sign her discharge papers as well. This is a serious commitment you're making Dr Pratt, are you certain it's the right thing?'

'Yes' there was no doubt in his mind.

She turned to walk out the room, but at the door she stopped and turned to face him, a tender smile lit up her face 'I admire your decision Greg, she's lucky to have friends like you, if you need anything, anything at all, just call me'

'Thanks but you're wrong, she's not lucky. I've let her down lately, its time I made it up to her'

'I think we've all done things recently that we regret, but we've got the chance to put them right now'

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Reference: Information regarding treatment - www save org / basics / qna.html 


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Hope you like this update, slightly OOC for Gates, but he has to have a decent-ish side, right?**

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'How's she doing?' Gates caught her arm as she walked past.

'What's it to you?' Abby pushed him away, continuing back along to the corridor towards where she could see Greg talking to Katey Alvaro.

'For God's sake, I care about her, I've tried talking to her, but she just pushes me away. I've been trying to tell you for months that something was wrong'

'What do you want? A medal?'

'Come on Lockhart, just tell me how she is. I can find out easily enough if you don't' he gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

'She tried to kill herself, is that what you want to know? Or do you want to know that if we'd been an hour later we'd have been too late, is that what you want to hear'

He turned half away from her, wiping a hand across his face, as his eyes closed, the cockiness fading from his stance 'Shit, Mayday, why did you do this?'

It was that whispered sentence that she wasn't meant to hear, that made her reassess her opinion of him. Perhaps there was more to him than the arrogant, bull shit that they'd all put up with for the last year and a half. Perhaps he really did care for Neela. She looked along the corridor at Greg and made a decision.

'Tony, look I'm sorry I snapped, I'm just so worried about her, I didn't see this coming' it was as much of an olive branch as she could conjure up.

'You couldn't have seen it…' and he accepted it.

'But you did, how could you when I couldn't?'

'You were right to question my motives, I'm not a saint, after her accident I took advantage, I charmed my way back into her bed, but it was different, it was like she wasn't there. I started to notice the little things, the signs that something was wrong, it was purely selfish to start with, but as she fell further and further I tried to talk to her, to get her to see someone, it was like Meg all over again' he turned towards the wall, leaning his head against his arm, eyes shut 'I could see what she was doing but because of what I'd done she wouldn't listen to me, couldn't believe I was offering genuine support. And because of how I've been, what I've done, no one would listen to me' he punched the wall, before turning to walk away.

'Tony, wait, I was wrong not to listen to you, you could see what I couldn't and I should have listened'

He stopped 'you weren't the only one' he turned and looked at the two doctors talking further down the corridor 'I tried to tell both of them, I thought it was her area of expertise, but they wouldn't believe me either'

'Whatever happens now we're going to need your help you know, she'll need all the support she can get'

'I know, I'm not going anywhere'

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'Are you happy now?' He'd been lurking at the admit desk waiting for her to get of the phone and now he forced his way between her and it.

'What are you talking about?' She tried to turn away but he grabbed hold of her arm.

'Her' he indicated down the corridor to where Neela was 'I tried to tell you that I was worried about her…'

'I know, but it wasn't so obvious then'

'In your line of work it shouldn't need to be obvious. I'll tell you what I think, shall I?' He was becoming more aggressive.

'If you must' she gave him a withering look.

'I think if it had been anyone else you'd have been in there…'

'Wait a minute!'

He cut her off '…but because it was Neela you didn't. What was it? Some sort of revenge for the fact that your boyfriend was in love with her, and not you?'

'How dare you?' She pulled her arm free of his grasp, but she wasn't going anywhere 'You know nothing about this'

'I know that he followed her around like a wet blanket for months. I know she broke up with me because of him…'

'What? When?'

'At Lockhart's wedding. He was so pissed; he took a shot at me, told me not to screw around with her. Half an hour later it was over'

'But that was the night…' she stopped, realising that she'd been about to reveal too much.

'What about that night?'

'Nothing, nothing' she was shaking her head, trying to clear her thoughts, trying to process this new information.

'It wasn't nothing. What's going on?' He paused, leaning in closer to her 'You know something about why no one's heard from Barnett since then, don't you?'

She averted her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze 'No'

'Oh come on, I wasn't born yesterday, you do, what happened to him?' He was trying to wheedle it out of her.

She sighed 'Okay, I do, but it's not my place to say, so just leave it'

'How can I leave it? You've obviously allowed it to cloud your judgement when it comes to Neela'

'That's not true! I didn't think she needed help' she wanted to get away from this interrogation before she let anything else slip, but he wasn't letting her go.

'Since when did you spend enough time with her to make that judgement? She enters a room, you leave'

'And you think that's because Ray was in love with her?' she laughed bitterly 'She was such a bitch to him'

'And he treated you so well?'

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'I just can't see why you took his side in all this. Anyone could see that as soon as she showed any interest in him he went running and just left you standing there, but you kept going back for more, why did you do that to yourself? What did he have that made it worth all that?'

'Oh, for God's sake, I was in love with him, is that what you want to hear? I would have taken whatever I could get from him'

'And you let that cloud your judgement about her' he stated it as fact.

'What?' she shook her head 'Clever Gates. As if you're any different'

He looked at her incredulously 'What does that mean?'

'You and Ray were at each others throats from the minute you met; you can't tell me that that had nothing to do with Neela'

'You're not blaming that one on me, that was all Barnett, he jumped down my throat at any opportunity'

'Yeah right, and you didn't antagonise him, flaunt your relationship with her in front of him?'

'Why should I do that? It's not my fault he missed his chance, he should have acting earlier'

'When? When she was married? Or perhaps when her husband died? When would have been a good time?'

'Why should I care? Why do _you_ care so much? What is he to you now?'

'He's… he's my friend and she's hurt him so much'

'And life's such a picnic for her, oh, wait a minute, isn't she the one on the gurney along there, the one who tried to drown herself in tequila' the sarcasm was dripping from his every word.

'You don't know shit about what he's been through'

'No, because you won't tell me, and the same could be said of her, she didn't get to this point overnight, did she?'

She felt deflated, he was right, she admitted defeat 'No, no she didn't, look there's no point in us fighting like this, she's going to need all our support'

He sighed, shaking his head 'You're right, we need to put her first. Are you admitting her?'

'No' he looked at her in despair, and she lowered her voice 'Dr Pratt thinks she'll be better of at his place with her _friends_ caring for her'

The noise as he slammed his hand on the desk startled nearby patients 'For Christ's sake, what is it with this place? Does no one have any sense?'


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm beginning to feel that this is my tale of redemption. I think I'm trying to challenge your preconceptions of the characters with this fic as you probably can tell, but some of its harder to do than the rest, as was the case with this chapter, it's hard to think bad of Ray, but it's probably my favourite so far! Hope you enjoy. Thank you for all the great reviews, you're turning me into a review junkie!**

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_I couldn't believe that they'd made the decision for me, all I had wanted was to go back to my apartment, never my home, and sleep. I didn't want them fussing around me, I only wanted peace and quiet and to be left alone. But they overruled me; it was Greg's apartment or be admitted to psych, which would have been even worse. I knew I was being ungrateful; I should have been pleased that they cared so much but I could only wish that they'd let me be._

_There were so many questions. Why? What happened? Then apologies, the understanding looks, the pity. The sympathetic voices that I just wanted to be quiet. I had to deal with them all. The 'if you talk to us you'll feel better' sentiments, how could talking make what I'd done better? It would never bring Michael back; it would never give Ray his legs back. _

_They never left me alone; I wasn't capable of looking after myself, or being trusted on my own, according to them. Greg gave up any social life that he had to look after me, and when he was at work I was shifted from pillar to post, days spent with Abby and Joe, nights with Tony or Morris or Hope. Sam, Haleh, Chuny, Lucien and even Dusty were all on 'Neela-sitting duty' at some point over the weeks. _

_I was shepherded to my therapy sessions; hours spent with Katey, discussing my feelings, my anger, my guilt. As a doctor, as a surgeon, I'd never really given a lot of thought to the psychiatric side of treating a patient. Psych was for the loopy folk, the ones who spoke to aliens, or were aliens, the ones who thought they were somebody else, or someone was coming to take them away; it wasn't for me, relatively sane, relatively intelligent, just a simple person who'd become too tired to live what her life had become, to accept that she'd made it that way. _

_I had to try to put aside the fact that Katey blamed me for Ray's accident, trying to forget that her boyfriend had been in love with me, not her. But having to address the fact that I was in love with him. Having to confide in her that I also blamed myself for his accident, for how I'd treated him during that year. Trying to find the starting point, when had I first started to feel guilty, had something happened in my childhood to make me feel like this? The first time I felt this guilt, I remember was the night before Michael asked me to marry him. I was lying in bed with my boyfriend and I didn't want to be there; I wanted to be in the bed, in the room next door, with my roommate. But I pushed it, and those feelings, aside, and I kept pushing it away, until that conference with Lucien, and those cocktails, when I admitted that the only place I wanted to be was with Ray, and I could no longer push the guilt away._

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'Hey man, are you busy?' 

'Nah, just watching a bit of TV' he looked at Neela asleep on the couch, and for the first time in the weeks she'd been staying he felt that it would be okay to take the call.

'Anything good on?' Greg looked at the screen; it was the same thing they'd been watching every night that week.

'Celebrity Poker'

He heard Ray laughing down the phone 'Celebrity Poker? When the hell did you start watching that?'

'I've got a houseguest at the moment who rather likes it, and if it makes her happy I'll watch it' it didn't make her happy; it just briefly dented the haunted look in her eyes.

There was a long pause on the line, and when he spoke Ray sounded pensive 'ah, who's this houseguest, anyone I know?'

'Your old roommate, she's going through a bit of a hard time, so I'm keeping an eye on her for a while' a cautious response, testing the water to hear his reaction.

Another long pause, and this time when Ray spoke his voice was harder and more biting 'I kinda guessed, no one else I know watches that. What's wrong with her then?'

She stirred slightly beside him, and he realised that this wasn't the place to have this conversation. He took the phone into his room and closed the door 'she's suffering from depression, she's had a tough couple of years, and they've caught up with her, but we're trying to get her through it'

He heard a bitter laugh 'is that all? She should try losing her legs if she wants a tough time, what the hell's she had to deal with?'

He felt something snap inside him, his grip on the telephone tightening. How dare he belittle Neela's problems? He couldn't see her suffering, when _he_ closed his eyes he didn't see her lying in the bed in her apartment, the evidence of her despair all around her, _he_ didn't have the daily fear of answering the phone to hear that this time she'd succeeded. 'What's she had to deal with? You're joking right? Where should I start? Her husband died less than two months after she married him, her best friend was in an accident that she blames herself for, she was almost killed, and that's just the big three, the list goes on and on, but surely that's enough?'

Silence.

Silence and then…

'What do you mean, she was almost killed?' Ray asked almost hesitantly, with fear of the answer evident.

'She got caught up in that anti-war march here six months ago, she fell and was trampled, we almost lost her, she was pretty badly hurt' at the time he'd thought nothing worse could possibly happen to her, but he would happily trade the present Neela for the Neela of six months ago, but wouldn't that just be postponing the inevitable? Wasn't she already on this path by then?

'Why haven't you said anything before?' There was the tiniest trace of concern in Ray's voice, and Greg knew he should try and work on it, but he was just so angry and tired that he wasn't sure he could muster the energy.

'You've not asked about her' in all their conversations she was the only person he hadn't asked about, and Greg, knowing how he'd felt about her, hadn't wanted to broach the subject.

'You're kidding me? Shit, surely you thought I would want to know that!' Tension resonated down the line.

'I thought you didn't care about her anymore, for fuck sake Barnett, according to Neela, she's called you almost every day for the last six months, you could have asked her how she was, but you won't even speak to her' would it have cost him that much to talk to her? Perhaps if he'd done so, they wouldn't be in this mess.

'I don't care, she's dead to me, any feelings I had for her are gone, she means nothing to me. God, all of this, it's her fault, you know, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be in this shitty wheelchair' the denial was so strong, too strong, Greg could see straight through it; this guy was still in love with Neela. His voice belied his words, but it was clear that he wasn't going to admit it any time soon.

'Get a grip man, it was an accident, an accident, she didn't do this to you, she didn't pour the drink down your throat. It was nobody's fault; you need to stop blaming her if you're going to move on with your life. She's beating herself up over your accident as it is'

'Fuck off Greg; you don't know what you're talking about. She should be, she should be blaming herself, you don't know how much she messed me around, playing me off against Ga…'

Greg hung up; he couldn't talk to him when he was like this, not when he was seeing her at her weakest, not when he knew what the guilt was doing to her. He'd almost come out with it at the end. Almost hurled the words down the line, to see if Ray was capable of feeling the same level of pain as Neela, but he couldn't do it. Despite his harsh words the guy had suffered enough and her attempted suicide was something he didn't need to know about yet, if ever.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own ER. You can thank Shadowdiva (Ash) for this chapter; she convinced me it was necessary. I'm not altogether happy with it, it just lacks something, I like Ray's part, but I'm less keen on the conversation, I'm having issues with them sounding too British! Thanks again for all the reviews, the next part is written so the more reviews the quicker you'll get it!

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He'd never intended to have a go at Ray, something inside him had just snapped. He'd never imagined that this would be so hard; he'd even found himself questioning whether he'd done the right thing saying he'd look after her. Was he that poor a friend that he couldn't even look after those he cared about? He'd never thought that that was the case, but now, he wasn't so sure. He wanted to help her; he really did, but was this really the right way?

He wandered out of his room and leant against the doorframe watching her asleep on the couch. She looked so peaceful and he had to admit that it was a blessing not to have to look at her haunted eyes. Was it wrong for him to think like that? He hated what she was going through, he couldn't understand how it had come to this, how she'd let it get this bad? Surely she'd seen the signs, he sighed, but then he hadn't seen them, too caught up in his own life, his own guilt, to see hers.

He hated seeing her like this, but he hated the invasion of his own life as well. He wasn't used to having someone depend on him so much for the simplest things. It had been bad enough when Chaz stayed with him, but they'd been like ships in the night, they'd shared a door, a kitchen, a bathroom, that was all, there was none of this dependency that there was with Neela. Take today for example, he'd slept in after lying awake half the night listening to her cry, the El had broken down, Moretti had been on his case all day about various issues to do with the new interns, and when he'd come home all he'd wanted was to crash on the couch with a beer and relax. But no, he couldn't do that because he'd had to give Neela her meds, had to try and persuade her to eat a few mouthfuls of the pasta he'd cooked, and had to meet those haunted eyes with his own. It was no wonder he'd snapped at Ray.

He left her there sleeping, pulling his mind away from the cold beer that he couldn't have, that there wasn't any of anyway, and retraced his steps back to his room. If she was asleep perhaps he could catch up on some shuteye as well. Like a fool, he'd never realised that looking after her would affect his sleep, but it did, in fact it was probably the biggest intrusion of all, more invasive than having someone staying in his spare room, more disruptive that revolving his life around someone else. Because in the dark, when he should have been sleeping, he could hear her cry, distraught tears of anguish, and as much as he tried, he couldn't ease her pain. And the occasional nights when that didn't happen, when she was quiet, he worried that she'd done something, found a way to hurt herself, and then he'd find himself in the kitchen counting the knifes, or in the bathroom locking the painkillers away.

He closed his eyes, but the thoughts kept coming, and now there was a new one, his anger towards Ray. He'd never meant to say what he did, but the day, the weeks, had caught up with him and he'd just felt so angry at the world. It was no excuse, he knew that, but it was the truth. The guy had been through so much, it was understandable that he would harbour anger towards her, he couldn't condone it, but he understood and he shouldn't have reacted the way he had. They'd never discussed her on his visits, Ray never asked and he'd never volunteered any information, there had been too many other issues to address. Ray's confidence, his self-belief, his body image, and _his_ own guilt over Ray's accident. It had always amazed him that Ray didn't blame him for it, especially now when it was so apparent that he did blame Neela. Would that change now that he'd said what he'd said? Would it make him reconsider? He'd been the last person to see Ray, he was the one who could have put him in a cab and sent him home, no one else, him, instead he'd just let him wander off and he felt the responsibility of that every day. He was lucky that Ray didn't blame him, but that didn't stop him blaming himself. And now he had more to blame himself for, he'd promised Ray that he wouldn't tell anyone about his accident, but he'd told Abby, and he'd told Gates, and Sam and Morris. They needed to know for Neela's sake but he knew that he'd broken that promise.

He'd tried to talk to Ray about it on his first visit, but he'd been in no state to discuss it, he still hadn't accepted what had happened, and he was swinging from grief and depression to not acknowledging that anything had changed. It had been his second visit when they'd sat down and really discussed things, but from what little Neela had said over the last few weeks it was clear that they'd barely touched on the surface of what had happened that night and in the weeks leading up to it.

He heard movement through the wall and heard the bathroom door open and close and the lock slide across. He felt himself tense, it was second nature these days, he was constantly alert watching for any sign that she was about to topple over the edge again. If he was completely honest at times he wished that they'd ignored Dubenko's concerns, surely the grief wouldn't have been as hard to live with as this guilt, but he'd still have felt guilty, guilty about missing the signs altogether, of letting her go through it all on her own, and guilty over Ray. There was no escaping the guilt. He could see how easy it would be to allow it to spiral out of control.

He gave a wry laugh, guilt was a cruel bed mate, it kept him awake until the early hours, it forced him to admit thoughts that he shouldn't be having, and it made him offer to do things that he wasn't really capable of. How had guilt become such a close friend of his?

_They'd gone to a bar nearby, a bar like Ike's, unpretentious, a place to get a drink, nothing else. It was the first time he'd seen Ray using his prosthetics and he was impressed at how far he'd come, but, as he watched him walk to the bar and back, there was a look of concentration there, a need to be constantly vigilant, which had never been there before and he knew that was down to him, because he hadn't got him a cab that night. A shadow crossed his face as the waves of guilt crashed over him._

'_How the hell can you spend time with me? You should hate me. This is my fault'_

_Ray looked at him with incomprehension 'what are you talking about? What's your fault?'_

_The torrent of words and thoughts continued to pour out of Greg 'this, your accident. If I hadn't let you wander off, if I'd got you a cab, it wouldn't have happened…'_

'_Wait a minute, it wasn't your fault…' Ray interrupted._

''_I was the last person that saw you I could see what a mess you were in'_

'_There was nothing you could have done. Could you have stopped me? I doubt it, I didn't want to go home. If you'd put me in a cab, I still wouldn't have gone home'_

'_If I hadn't kept ordering you drinks…'_

'_I would have ordered them myself. You weren't pouring the drink down my throat, were you? You didn't make me go to another bar. You didn't…'_

'_But…'_

'_For Christ's sake Greg, don't you get it? You couldn't have prevented this. You're not to blame, I'm an adult, I'm responsible for my own actions. I should have got a cab and gone home, I know that, I'll always regret that I didn't, but I don't blame you'_

'_How can you be so…?'_

'_Don't get me wrong, I did blame you, I blamed everyone, but I can see now that that was wrong, it wasn't going to get me anywhere. I need your support to get through this, not your guilt'_

'_You've got it man, you know that, anything you need…'_

'_That's good to hear, I need your advice, I want to go back to County, not yet, eventually, but I don't know how it would work, if it could work'_

'_I could speak to Moretti, see what he suggests, I think he'd be pretty keen to have you back'_

'_Moretti? The new ER Chief, right?'_

'_Not so new, he's been there five months or so'_

'_Can you speak to him, I don't want anyone else to know, I need to know if its possible first, but speak to him, see what he says'_

He remembered back to that conversation, he still believed it, Greg wasn't to blame, but that didn't mean that no one was. She was. He knew deep inside him that it was wrong to blame her, but he still did. It didn't surprise him that Greg had hung up on him, in another time he would have done the same if someone had said those things about her to him, but it was different now.

Her. Neela. It was the first time in six months that he'd allowed himself to think her name, let alone think about her. She, and it was always she or her, never Neela, was the person to focus the blame on. But she or her was different to Neela. Neela conjured up images and memories, thoughts and desires; she was faceless, somewhere to focus his pain, his anger, the person he screamed at. Two parts of the same reality. The woman he loved; the person he blamed. The person he'd do anything to protect; the name he never wanted to hear again. Twisted thoughts. But that was how his mind worked these days. He'd covered all the stages of loss, pretty comprehensively he thought, but blame was where he still struggled, he'd stopped blaming a lot of people: Abby and Luka, Greg, Hope, even Gates (he still didn't like the guy though). He knew it wasn't their fault but he couldn't accept that it wasn't hers. Would he ever be able to? He wanted to go back to County, but would he be able to if she was still there? Could he work with her again?

And then the enormity of Greg's words hit him '_almost killed'_ and he felt the breath being torn from his body. _'Almost killed'_. A world without Neela. How many times in the last six months had he wished that she didn't exist, that she would just disappear, was this his punishment for those thoughts? And how would he have felt if he'd picked up the phone to be told she was dead? That was a whole new area of fear and pain and grief, one that he had to quickly close the door on before it screwed with what remained of his sanity. Why hadn't he asked Greg what had happened, if she was okay? But he knew why, when it came to Neela his feelings were all over the place and if he admitted that he was concerned about her, that he didn't want her to have been hurt, would he still be able to hold onto the small amount of control he had over them? He doubted it. So, it was safer not to ask, but he wished that he could.

He allowed his mind to drift back to a similar yet less complicated situation. The night of the plane crash, the night when he'd berated Greg for not looking after her, for not keeping her safe. He'd felt so angry that night, angry that he couldn't protect her, that no one had protected her, and then when he saw her, he'd felt the relief enveloping him tight, because all that mattered was that she was okay, it didn't matter who'd done, or not done, what, she was okay.

That was the night Michael came home, and she'd married him, and what was so simple became less so. It had still been simpler, she was his roommate, he was allowed to be worried about her, now, now she was the woman he blamed for losing his legs, and he shouldn't be worrying about her, but however much he told himself that, he was. And because he hadn't asked all sorts of scenarios were playing in his head, Greg had said trampled, so it could have been a head injury, internal injuries, spleen, lungs, scarring… For the first time since he left Chicago, he let himself picture her in his mind, dressed as he'd last seen her in blue scrubs and a red hooded top, and he tried to imagine what damage she'd suffered. But it wasn't enough, he wanted to see her. And again, for the first time since he'd been in Baton Rouge, he walked over to his closet and pulled out the box marked Chicago. The stuff that his mom had thought would be too painful for him to look at, and there it was at the top, the photograph from the fridge, of Neela and him. Again a simpler time. Would life ever be that simple again?

As much as he wanted it to be, he knew he'd never be the person in that photograph again, too much had happened. And as much as he tried to convince himself that he should, he wasn't ready to forgive her. At no point, as he lay there, staring at the photograph, did he acknowledge what Greg had said about her being depressed, his heart wouldn't even allow him to consider what that meant. If he didn't acknowledge it, the questions couldn't haunt him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: As previous. Right as promised the next chapter, not as quick as I'd planned and a bit shorter than normal, I'm afraid. I'm trying to balance writing and real life at the moment, the muses came up with a new story on Tuesday that is just flowing onto the page but its currently eating into all my none work hours thus taking attention away from Guilt and OJNC, which I'd hoped to finish in the next week. So that and clothes to make to go on holiday, work and other work are kind of eating up my time so please be patient. Thanks for all your reviews. **

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'Mayday' he stopped as he saw her glare at him. 

'I hate that name, don't call me that' she was sitting on Greg's couch staring at the television set.

'Sorry, look you know you can talk to me if you want to, don't you?' he handed her a mug of tea.

'What about?' she fiddled with a strand of her chocolaty brown hair.

'Anything, whatever's going on with you?'

'God, why can't you all leave me alone? You, Abby, Greg, psych, all you want me to do is talk' she pushed the tea away, stood and started to pace the room.

'Neela, we care about you, we want to help you get better, you need to let us help you, and we can only do that if you tell us what's wrong'

'How can you be like this, being nice, to me. Sarah's mother is dead because of me, how can you forgive that?'

'Bullshit Neela, you know that if anyone's to blame for Meg's death it's me, I should have been honest with both of you from the start, but I wanted everything and by the time I realised what I really wanted, it was too late. You can't blame yourself for all this'

'What can you do?' she turned and looked at him heatedly 'you can't give Ray his legs back, you can't bring Michael back, you can't make any of my screw ups better'

'Why do you insist that these things are your fault? They were both accidents'

'Maybe' she stopped in front of the bookcase and started to pull books out, rearranging them 'maybe Michael knew I didn't love him enough, and that's why he got himself killed. Maybe he knew that I had feelings for someone else, maybe he worked out what a terrible wife I was and he realised that he didn't have anything to come home for'

He took the book that she was trying to squeeze into a non-existent spot from her, pulled her to her feet, and guided her back to the couch, crouching in front of her.

'Neela, Michael was killed by a bomb, it wasn't his choice not to come back, and it wasn't your fault. Why do you think you were a terrible wife?'

'Because, because' she wringed her hands together 'I married Michael when I was already falling in love with someone else, because I didn't want to leave our apartment to set up a home with him, because he wasn't who I wanted to come home to at night'

Tony looked at her, he wasn't sure he was the person she should be having this conversation with but he tried to gauge the right words to continue with 'Why did you marry him if you were in love with someone else? This is about Barnett isn't it?'

She stared at her left hand 'because I thought it would never work with Ray, we were too different. I wasn't good enough for him, I thought it would have lasted for a few weeks, and then he'd have found someone else, someone beautiful and gorgeous and sexy, someone far more fitting for him'

He raised a hand to stroke her cheek 'Mayday, can't you see that you're all those things and you're intelligent and sarcastic, you were far too good for me and for Barnett'

It was like she hadn't heard him, she transferred her gaze to her right hand 'I guess I was wrong, he was always there for me when I needed him, even when I pushed him away, when I wouldn't end it with you, he never gave up on me' she raised her eyes to his, 'Now he won't even let me talk to him' and the tears he could see overflowed.

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'Can we grab a coffee?' Greg stopped Katey at the admit desk. 

'Yeah, why not?' They walked out to the coffee stand 'you know I can't discuss what we say in her sessions, don't you? A skinny latte, please'

'A latte for me, I know, I just wondered how you thought she was doing generally?' he paid for the two coffees.

'It's slow, she's holding onto a lot of pain, but I think we're getting there' she took a sip of her drink.

'That's my impression too, it's strange she seems far more vulnerable than I ever remember, more so than she was when Mike died' they paused beside a wall.

'I don't think it's a new thing, a lot of it stems from then, she just doesn't have the strength to hide it anymore'

He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the building 'I hear her crying at night but she won't let me comfort her'

'I told you it would be hard'

'Yeah, I realise that. It's just I never thought I'd find myself wishing that I'd done things differently'

'What do you mean? About taking care of her?'

'No, yes, maybe, I don't know. Over the last few years, about Mike, about Ray, if I'd said or done something differently things could be so different'

'Yeah, I know' she whispered wistfully.

'If I'd not told Ray to give her space when Mike died, that was so stupid, she needed his support, she'd already lost Mike, she didn't need to lose him too'

She turned away, hoping to hide the tears that were gliding down her cheeks.

'Hey, what's wrong?' He reached out to touch her arm.

'I… feel the same' she swiped a couple of the tears away.

'What do you mean?'

'After his accident, when she came to the hospital, I told her that she had to accept that it was all her fault, I basically told her that she was to blame for his accident'

'Ouch, you don't mince your words, do you?' He ran a hand across his face 'Did you mean it?'

'At the time, yes, I guess, but I was angry, I hated that he was so hung up on her that he got himself into that mess. I was in love with him, and seeing the power she held over him, it just made me so frustrated, Greg'

'What I don't get is that he basically treated you like shit for months yet you ended up fighting his battles for him'

'I know, I know, I had this conversation with Tony a while ago, I don't know why, it was like he had the same power over me that she had over him. I wanted him to love me and I would have done anything to get that'

'What about now?'

'What do you mean? How do I feel about Ray? Or Neela? He's one of my closest friends, I talk to him most weeks, but after his accident he was in no place to build a relationship even if he'd wanted too, and I realised that we were better off as friends'

'What about Neela? Are you impartial enough to treat her?'

'Yes, of course I am, don't doubt my professionalism. I wish things were different, I remember when I first met her; I thought we could be friends, but my jealousy got in the way of that. I don't know if it's possible but I'd like to get back to that. Perhaps too much has been said and felt for that to happen, I don't know'


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own ER. You can thank my work for two days on a train and a night in a hotel for this spate of updates from me, I'm hoping to have OJNC finished by Monday, and this is hopefully going to move at a fair pace over the next few days. Please review.

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know that I'm sorry that I've not been here for you since Joe was born, don't you?' They were at a nearby park, and Abby was pushing Joe on one of the swings while Neela sat on another. 

'It's not your fault, he's needed your attention, and I'm an adult I should be able to take care of myself'

'I know but you're one of my closest friends and I feel like I've abandoned you. But you know that I'm here and you can talk to me, don't you?'

'Yeah, but what's the point? You can't change anything that's happened' she made a face at Joe and he laughed back at her. Being with Joe was one of the few times she smiled these days.

'You know talking can help, if you talk to us we might be able to help you' Joe was starting to get fractious in the swing so she lifted him out and he ran over the slide with them both following.

'But you can't help, can you? I'm bad luck, if I was you I wouldn't let me anywhere near Joe, you never now what might happen to him with me around' Abby stopped her, a hand on her arm.

'Don't talk nonsense, you're not bad luck, you've just had a bad time of it, nothing that's happened has been your fault'

'How can you say that? Michael died and Ray was hurt because of me. I lost both of them and it was entirely my fault' her eyes started to glisten with unshed tears as she pulled away.

'Neela, you need to realise that you're not to blame, what happened to Michael was an act of war, Ray was hit by a truck, you weren't responsible for either of those things' she followed her over to the slide where Joe was climbing the steps. She smiled at his ecstatic face as he slid back down.

'But if Michael hadn't realised I was falling for Ray he wouldn't have gone back' she caught Joe at the bottom and lifted him off, and he ran back round to the steps.

'How do you know that he thought that?'

Neela was still crouching down at the bottom of the slide, she looked up at Abby 'why else would have left me?'

'When did you realise that you were falling for Ray'

She briefly closed her eyes 'After Michael left, I had a conference with Lucien, we were sitting in the bar afterwards and I realised that wasn't where I wanted to be, I wanted to be with Ray'

'Sweetie, I don't think that was why Michael left, you weren't even aware of it then, so I don't think he could have been. I think he went back because he felt it was his duty'

'But what about his duty to me? I was his wife'

'I don't know, I don't think I'll ever properly understand why he left you. Somehow I think he might have thought that if anything happened to him Ray would look after you, I think that he knew there'd always be someone there for you even if he wasn't'

'But he must have known how I felt then' she was searching for answers that Abby didn't have.

'I don't think so. He knew how strong your friendship had become and he knew that Ray would be there for you no matter what, I don't think he thought it was anything more than friendship though'

Neela buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled 'Even if that's the case, I could have prevented Ray from getting hurt if I'd told him how I really felt, instead of continually leading him on and pushing away, he wouldn't have been hit'

Joe ran over and wrapped his arms around Neela 'Neela no cry' he shook his head adamantly; she looked up at him and smiled weakly.

'You can't think like that, you felt it was too soon to be with Ray after Michael died, you were feeling guilty about your feelings, that's all perfectly understandable'

'Yes, but I messed him around, I knew how he felt but I kept asking for more time'

She stood up, and they walked over to a bench and sat down.

'But you said that you'd started to tell him how you felt when Hope interrupted you, that you were ready to move on with him. How could his accident be your fault?'

Tears were slowly trickling down her cheeks 'Because I didn't go after him after the fight, I rang him and left a message and he was checking that when he got hit'

Abby put an arm around her and pulled her close 'It was terrible timing, I give you that, but it still doesn't mean it was your fault. He was drunk, from what I heard he could hardly stand when he left the wedding'

A sob tore itself from Neela's mouth 'I don't know what happened, when we talked and while you guys were dancing he seemed to happy and then he was drinking like his life depended on it and starting a fight with Tony, it was so unlike him'

'I really don't know, I think the only person who does know is him'

She pulled away and turned to face Abby, wiping the tears dry 'I've tried to call him you know '176 times to be precise 'but he won't talk to me, his mother lies for him or he hangs up, he won't let me apologise or ask for his forgiveness, its like he can't bear to hear my voice'

'Neela…'

'No Abby, he won't forgive me. Why should he, it's my fault, I messed him around, I kept him hanging on. You know he told me he trusted me, he fought for me, he waited for me, he even… he even fell in love with me. What did I do for him? I felt so guilty about Michael, I couldn't let myself love him like I did because my feelings for him were so tied up with Michael'

Abby shook her head despairingly, how could he tell her that he'd waited for her when he'd been sleeping with Katey? It made no sense. 'None of that means that you caused his accident, it was a matter of wrong place, wrong time, an accident. He's got a lot of adjusting to do, he'll come round, he'll realise that, you've just got to give him time'

'How can I expect him to forgive me when I can't forgive myself?' It was a conversation she'd had many times over the previous weeks, and it always came down to this, she couldn't forgive herself.

* * *

'How are you feeling today?' They were sitting in the stark white psych office, in two easy chairs.

It was a hard question to answer, physically she was fine, mentally she wasn't so sure 'Not too bad'

'You're still taking your meds?' All their sessions started the same way.

'Yeah, I think they're beginning to help a bit'

'That's good, as you know it takes a while for them to kick in. I think we should continue where we left off last week, if that's okay with you?'

Last week. Michael. She nodded in agreement.

Katey referred to her notes 'You said that you began to question how well you knew Michael when he decided to go back to Iraq, in what way?'

'I felt that I should have realised he was considering it, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to me, if it had been R…' she trailed off.

'If it had been what?'

Neela closed her eyes and sighed 'If it had been Ray I would have realised that something was wrong much sooner, but I didn't have that insight with Michael'

'Why do you think that was?' It was always like this, Katey making her examine her thoughts and feelings and the decisions she'd made.

'I don't think I knew Michael well enough, I couldn't tell how he was feeling. Perhaps… I think we got married to quickly, I should have spent more time getting to know him, that way I would have been able to see the signs'

'Do you think that would have made a difference? Would you feel any different now if you hadn't married him?'

'I don't know. I think I might have understood why he went back better if I'd spent more time getting to know him. And… I'd have still felt that I was betraying him when I realised I was falling for Ray, I don't know somehow I think it wouldn't have been so bad because I wouldn't have made a life long commitment to him that I was breaking'

'Was it the idea of breaking that commitment that distressed you the most?'

'Um, yeah, I guess. I mean, it was more the thought that if I could have these feelings for Ray perhaps my feelings for Michael weren't as strong as I thought. And then when he died I felt that it was because I was questioning how much I loved him'

'Were you in love with him?' She briefly checked her watch, 20 minutes to go.

'When I married him I thought I was, but after he left I started to question it. I loved him, don't get me wrong, but I don't think I was in love with him. He didn't make my heart race the way…' Discussing her feelings for Ray with Katey always made her feel very uncomfortable.

'The way Ray did?' Katey had to close her mind to the fact that the Ray they were talking about had been her boyfriend.

Neela felt the colour rise on her cheeks 'Yeah, the way Ray did. If I'd experienced that before I would never have married Michael. I think…' the tears started to well in her eyes 'I think I loved him like a very good friend, but not the way a husband should be loved'

'You've said before that you think Michael knew that and that's why he went back to Iraq, do you really believe that?'

'No, I've been thinking about it and he was a soldier, that was what he did. I knew that when I first met him. He visited his friends that were hurt out there a lot, and I think he felt a sense of duty to them, and to the ones that were killed out there, and that he knew that he would feel guilty if he didn't go back'

'How do you feel about that?'

'It's hard for me, I've never agreed with the war in Iraq, so trying to understand why he would want to go back and fight in a war I don't believe in his hard, but he was brought up in the army, its what he knew and I guess I can't really question that. It does make me question whether he loved _me_ enough though. It still seems strange that he would marry me and then leave me to go back there a month later'

'Do you think he thought of it as leaving you, or just like he was going back to work, like you came back to County after your wedding?'

'I don't think he was ending our marriage if that's what you mean. You're probably right, he thought of it as going back to work, I just wish his work hadn't been on the other side of the world, in a war zone'

Katey glanced at her watch 'that's our time up I'm afraid. You know, this weeks been good, you've made a lot of progress, accepting that you're not to blame for Michael's death is a big step forward, there's a long way to go though and it's not going to be easy'

She smiled shyly 'Yeah I know, I'll see you next week'


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Sorry, I'm turning up the angst on this as well. I was disappointed only to get one review for the last chapter, so please review this time.**

_

* * *

_

_After a while, the anti-depressants kicked in and levelled out the peaks and troughs of my moods and I no longer felt the extremes of emotion that I'd been swinging between. Slowly they allowed me more space, more independence, I was allowed to spend small amounts of time on my own, which gradually increased as time went by._

_They were convinced that I was improving, and to be honest, I believed I was as well, and when they reduced my meds slightly, I could even, on occasion, feel something like happiness, and I could smile and laugh again. It took two months for me to get to the point where they thought I was well enough to move back into my apartment, it turned out to be the wrong decision but they weren't to know it at the time. It was a relief for me; as much as I loved Greg I didn't know how much longer I could live with him._

_The first week in my apartment was okay, I'd been back at work for a few weeks by then and I was in control of things. Then one day I was called to the ER by one of the new interns to do a consult, the patient was a young guy, about my age, who'd been crushed by falling masonry, he'd been trapped underneath it and was losing blood rapidly. We tried to stop the bleeding, but couldn't and ended up amputating both his legs. He'd lost too much blood though, and died in recovery. I couldn't see him as an individual; all I could think of was Ray. _

_When I left that night there was a scalpel in my bag. That was the first night I cut myself. And for a few minutes it alleviated the pain I felt, it provided me with a brief respite. Suffice to say that wasn't the last time I cut myself, it became a nightly occurrence, a release I craved all day, something that was at the back of my mind until the next time I held the scalpel in my hand. I knew I had to be careful, that if anyone found out, well, it goes without saying. I knew I was slipping back down again, that I should be trying to claw my way back to normality, but my meds weren't capable of giving me the feeling that I got from cutting myself, for those few minutes I couldn't think of anything else, I forgot all about Michael, about Ray, and I couldn't give that up. I found myself forgetting to take my anti-depressants, what I was doing was better than any drug so why should I take them anymore?_

_That wasn't all, what little interest I had in food disappeared, if there was no one around I couldn't force myself to eat. I gradually ate less and less until I was hardly eating anything. The cupboards and refrigerator in my apartment were empty, there was no point buying food for it to go to waste. It surprised me that they didn't realise what I was doing; I guess they only saw what they wanted to see, what I wanted them to see. _

_I started to dream of seeing Michael again, of being able to ask for his forgiveness and him giving it, and keeping me safe forever. I knew that would never happen with Ray. As much as I could believe that I wasn't to blame for what happened to Michael, they'd finally convinced me of that, there was nothing anyone could say to convince me that Ray's accident wasn't my fault. Even though I knew I didn't love him enough, I knew I could be happy with Michael, that he could thaw my frozen heart. I knew those thoughts were insane, that Michael was dead, but I didn't want to be alive either, and I had to believe there was something better somewhere._

* * *

It was a busy day in the ER, Neela had been down there most of the morning doing numerous surgical consults. It was a blistering hot, muggy day and as usual the air conditioning had broken down. She was in Trauma 1 with Abby and Haleh examining a patient with severe abdominal pain when she started to come over light headed and she felt her concentration start to wander.

Abby became concerned as she watched Neela's eyes flit around the room, as if she wasn't sure where she was, and her body started to sway 'Neela?'

She opened her mouth to reply, but the room started to go hazy as the world faded away and she collapsed to the floor.

'Haleh, get help' Abby shouted as she knelt down at Neela's side, her heart pounding in her chest as she checked her vitals.

'What's going on Lockhart? What's happened?' Gates asked as he entered the trauma room. Since that first day when Pratt and Abby had brought Neela in, and he and Abby had talked, they'd developed a friendship, a friendship based around their feelings for Neela, but a solid friendship all the same. 'Mayday?' He knelt down beside her.

She looked at him in confusion ' I don't know, one minute she was examining the patient the next it was like her attention had gone and then she fell to the floor. I've got a pulse and she's breathing but I don't know what happened'

Tony slid one arm under Neela's legs and another under her shoulders and lifted her up onto the gurney that Haleh had brought in. He was appalled to realise that he could feel her bones protruding through the thin fabric of her scrubs. He shook his head in despair as he laid her down.

Abby noticed his expression and felt a hand tightening around her heart 'Tony, what's wrong?'

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed 'She's a lot lighter than I remember, shit, Sarah's heavier than she is; how could we have missed this?'

Abby quickly pulled Neela's top and sleeves up and she realised what he was talking about. There was hardly anything to her, she was no longer the slender girl that Abby had shared an apartment with, and Tony had dated. She was gaunt, her ribs were prominently on display like the bars on a xylophone, her stomach was concave and it was littered with raw, red scars in varying stages of healing. Abby paused in her examination as her hands started to shake and exchanged an anxious look with Tony. Every bone and muscle in her friend's body was visible, the scars were a sign of self-harming and as she unbuttoned, with those shaking hands, Neela's trousers and pushed them down, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the fresh wounds on her thighs. Her gaze returned to Neela's face, looking at her now it was easy to see the dark, hollow circles surrounding her eyes had returned. Those same eyes slowly flickered open.

'Hey' Abby whispered, so many questions that she wanted to ask, but knew she couldn't.

'What... what happened?' Neela murmured.

'You fainted, sweetie, we're just going to run some tests to see if we can find out why, okay?' She was trying hard not to convey how worried she was feeling, but she knew she was failing miserably.

'It's hot in here its not surprising I fainted, its not serious, I should get back to the patient' she started to pull herself up into a sitting position and Abby saw her eyes start to cloud over again.

'No Neela, I don't think that's it, we'll just run some tests, make sure we're not missing anything, you just rest for the moment, don't worry about your patient, Crenshaw's on his way down' she was sure that she saw Neela roll her eyes when she heard his name, perhaps this wasn't as bad as they thought or perhaps that was wishful thinking. She had a feeling it was the latter.

'Mayday, when did you last eat?' Abby shot him a despairing look; trust him to wade right in, at least he wasn't asking about the scars, yet.

'Before I came on this morning' Neela answered vaguely, truth be known she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She only ate when she couldn't get away with not eating, when one of them was watching her and she was getting better at avoiding that as well.

'Something? Like what?' he wasn't going to let her get away with that, it was clear to both Abby and him that she wasn't eating, that that was just the cusp of her problems, that they were back at the bottom of the slippery slope that they'd thought she'd climbed, but that she was obviously intent on throwing herself down.

'A bagel?' Neela didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but it did. She couldn't have told him what the last thing she ate was, if she couldn't remember when it was how on earth was she meant to remember what it was?

'A bagel? You don't even like bagels' he remembered buying them one day and she'd turned her nose up at them, asking if he didn't have some toast instead. He'd laughed at her then, how could she not like bagels, but she was adamant that she didn't and he'd spent the rest of the day teasing her about it.

Abby lay a hand on his arm 'Leave it Tony, can I have a word outside'

They pushed their way through the swing doors and stopped just outside the room so that they could still see her but she couldn't hear them.

'She's not going to admit that she's not eating Tony, don't force it. There are bigger issues to deal with than that, you saw those scars didn't you? I'm out of my depth here, and you are too. I think we need to get a psych consult down here, and we should contact Greg as well, he needs to know what's happened' she collapsed back against the wall blinking back the tears that had sprung up 'God Tony, how the hell did we not see this?'

'I saw him leaving a few minutes ago; I'll try his cell if you call psych. Abby...' he ran a hand across his face, exhaling slowly, trying to control the overwhelming flood of emotions that were threatening to take over. 'What's going to happen now, how can we get her through this? I thought we were getting there but it feels like we're right back where we started' his gaze never left Neela as he watched her through the glass. In the few minutes since they'd left the room her control had crumbled and she now looked completely broken, all the fight had left her body.

She could hear the fear in his voice, and she felt it churning in her stomach 'Honestly? I don't know, I thought the same, she's obviously getting better at hiding it from us, but I know we have to keep trying, we can't give up on her…' she closed her eyes tightly, battling to speak past the lump in her throat 'I'm not going to let her kill herself if I can help it, I will fight for her as long as there's breath in her body, I'm not going to give up on her' her tears started to fall.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke 'Neither am I, neither am I'


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimers: I don't own ER. Next part of Guilt, I'm hoping to get another two parts up before the end of tomorrow, but we'll see, lots of other things to do as well. This wasn't initially my favourite chapter but I rather like it now, so hopefully you do to. The angst will be building up a fair bit over the next couple of chapters so be warned. Thanks to Roomieslove for her suggestions on where to take this, they were great and I'll try and incorporate some in what I've got planned. Reviews please.**

* * *

It was dark and snowy as he drove home. It had been a hell of a shift, 28 hours and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for hours. But his phone rang just as he was pulling up outside his apartment building 'what?' 

'Greg? It's Tony, we need you to come back' there was something in his voice, a catch, a hesitancy, that made Greg, as tired as he was, listen.

He sighed wearily 'Jesus man, I've been on for 28 hours, can't a guy get some shuteye? Isn't there someone else you can call, I'm dead on my feet, I doubt it would be safe for me to keep working. What's happened?' Even as he spoke he was swinging the car around and pulling back into the lanes of traffic, he knew that the only reason they were calling him was because there was no one else.

'It's Neela' and with those words the bubble he'd been living in for the last couple of weeks burst.

'Shit, I'm on my way, what's happened?' And with the bubble bursting all the illusions he'd been under about her recovering vanished, and all he could see were images of the way she'd been these last few months flashing in front of his eyes. The months of trying to care for her, worrying about her, trying to get her to smile, trying to stop her blaming herself for everything were all he could see as he pressed down on the accelerator. And the crushing sensation in his chest, as he wove his way around the other cars, was telling him that his concerns over her hurting herself again hadn't been misguided, this was the phone call that he'd been waiting for even though he hadn't known it.

'She collapsed in a trauma' there was a pause, and Greg felt his foot grow heavier on the pedal. 'She's okay, well she's conscious but… shit, you should see her, how could we miss this? She's been cutting herself, her stomach and thighs are covered in scars, we think she's stopped eating, that's why she collapsed' there was another long pause and he tried to absorb what Tony was saying 'she's broken, all her fight has gone, I… I really don't know if we can get her back this time'

'Who's with her?' His dreams of a cosy, warm bed and a warm body to hold, where fading fast into the distance. Sleep wasn't on the cards for him tonight.

'Abby, we've called psych as well, but we thought you should know'

'Look, I'll be there in 10 minutes, tell whoever's on duty in psych that I want to speak to them' it would be less if he could help it, he thought as he overtook another car.

* * *

'What?'

'Greg, its Ray, is this a bad time?' He could hear the anger in Greg's voice resonating down the line.

Pratt gave a wry, bitter laugh 'A bad time, I've just got off after 28 hours, I didn't even make it home before I was called back' he climbed out of his car heading towards the ER entrance, Scott, one of the security guards, gesturing that he couldn't use his cell inside.

'You short staffed or something?' He remembered how horrendous shifts like that were, when all you wanted to do was sleep, but you had to keep going because there were patients to treat. With a slow smile, he realised that he was looking forward to experiencing that again. The shifts he'd picked up at the local hospital had been good, but there hadn't been anything like the buzz of County, there was something about the place, the energy, the dynamics of the department which made it a great place to work. That, and if he was honest, _she_ was there and that would make any place worth working in.

'Aren't we always? No, Neela's collapsed, Abby and Tony are worried about her so they called me back' he realised then that it wasn't anger he could hear in Greg's voice, it was frustration and anxiety mixed in with a liberal dose of fatigue.

'Tony? You mean Gates? Is he still hanging around? Is she still _screwing_ him?' One minute he was thinking positively about her, looking forward to seeing her again, and then with just a couple of words his mind was shooting off in a completely different direction. They were all questions he wanted answers to, but he'd planned on asking them differently, more tactfully, in fact that was part of his reason for speaking to Greg tonight, to find out how she was, what was going on with her. He finally almost felt ready to address the situation between them, and here he was reacting like this. He subconsciously held his breath as he waited for Greg's answer.

'Grow up man, they haven't been together for over nine months but he's been a good friend to her, to all of us, through her illness' this time it was definitely anger he could hear in Greg's voice and he knew it was aimed at him.

'I bet he has, he's just waiting to jump back into her bed and she'll let him like always' Just a few words that to him sounded like Greg was singing the guy's praises and all the jealousy that he'd felt for the last two years or so was venting itself.

'Oh, for fuck sake, at least he's been here for her, he's put his life on hold to look after her, we all have'

'What's that supposed to mean?' He deserved that, he knew he did, and in all honesty he also knew what was coming next.

'You won't even speak to her, can't you even give her that, she's making herself ill over this'

He tried so hard not to respond in anger to that comment, but before he could count to ten it was out there 'hang on, I'm the one that lost my legs, why should I make the effort?'

'You once said you loved her, if you meant it, if you still feel anything for her, you would talk to her'

How did he know? The only person he'd said those words to was Neela, he shook his head, it didn't really matter how he knew, he just did, the important thing was what he'd said, not how he knew. Yes he still loved her, as hard as he'd tried he hadn't been able to stop and he couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't be a part of his life. But was he ready to open up to her again, would it be third time lucky or was he going to get so badly burnt that he would never recover? He'd been quiet for so long that Greg probably thought he'd hung up, and all the collective emotion from what he'd been thinking was evident in his voice when he spoke 'I do still love her, I don't know how to stop, but she messed me around so much, I don't want to get hurt again'

'She knows she was wrong to do that, that's why she wants to apologise'

Was there really anything for her to apologise for? It was a question that he'd asked himself on numerous occasions and one on which he was still no clearer 'I have to get myself sorted out before I can do anything; I want to walk through those doors when I come back not wheel myself in' He knew that was misleading, that he was practically lying to Pratt but he wasn't ready for anyone to know that he was coming back, that he was strong enough and fit enough, finally, to return to work.

'You don't have to come back, just speak to her, that's all I'm asking. Here's a question for you though, what's more important, walking back into County or coming back to her? Think about your answer, because if you're coming back for her, if you leave it too long, there won't be anyone to come back too'

He felt his hackles rising again, he wasn't sure what it was, was it the feeling that Greg was exaggerating, making her sound worse than she most likely was to guilt him into speaking to her or was it the suspicion that he was underplaying her illness, protecting him from how bad it really was? 'Stop being so melodramatic! She can't be that bad or they'd have admitted her by now'

'Oh, is that what I'm being, perhaps I should go and ask your ex girlfriend what she thinks, she's well place seeing as she's doing a psych consult on her as we speak. While I'm at it, maybe I should tell her what you said about having 'waited for Neela' I wonder what she thinks of that seeing as you were screwing her at the time. Talk about being melodramatic. I don't think Neela is the only one who has apologies to make, do you? Think about it, think about what you really want before she succeeds in destroying herself!'

He had no idea how to respond to any of that, so many words in his vocabulary yet none of them seemed to fit this situation. He remained silent for so long contemplating Greg's words, that he almost didn't hear what else he had to say when he spoke again.

'Look, I'm sorry man, its just this… its all too much to take in. I need to go see what's happening with her, but I'll talk to you later, okay?'

He heard himself agreeing and then the phone went dead.

* * *

As Greg walked back into the ER he ran into Katey 'how is she? What's your assessment?'

She sighed deeply 'I thought we were heading in the right direction Greg, but she's a lot worse than I thought. She's obviously not eating, Abby's found fresh scars on her stomach and thighs. She's closed in on herself, she's not saying much but what she did say was that she hadn't wanted to worry any of us. She needs admitting, I know you didn't want it last time, but if we're going to get her through this we're going to have to do it' she paused and he sensed that she wasn't finished.

'But?'

'We haven't got a free bed at the moment, I'm sorry, she's top of the list, but there just isn't anything'

'Fuck, what are we supposed to do then?' he lashed out at the wall, leaving a dent in the plasterwork.

'What you were doing before I guess, look I really am sorry, I can see she needs help, as soon as there is anything it hers and if there's anything I can do in the meantime just let me know'

'Ray just called, I tried to talk to him, to get him to speak to Neela, but he won't, it's like he's got a monopoly on being the injured party'

'I know, I've tried as well, I spoke to him again last night, but he still seems to blame her for the accident' she took a deep breath 'I know I've said this before but one of the things I regret is that I told her that his accident was her fault, it was one of those spur of the moment comments, I was angry and upset but I should never have said it, I can't help but feel I'm partly responsible for what's happening to her and for the way he's feeling'

'What's going on with her goes back a lot further than that I think, don't beat yourself up'

'I know but it doesn't make it any easier to accept and I think if I hadn't been so quick to agree with him in the first place he wouldn't be so adamant about it now. I just wish we could get him to talk to her, I really think he could make a difference, she trusts him, she'd listen to him, it wouldn't make her better, but it would be a move in the right direction'

'All we can do is keep trying, hopefully we'll get through to him, before it's too late'

'How much have you told him?'

'He knows she's had a breakdown, that she was staying with me, I didn't go into the specifics, I kind of feel that I should be protecting him from what's really going on'

'I think its time to stop that, he needs to know how bad it is'

He shook his head 'look, be careful about what you say, you could lose your job over this'

'I know that but I kind of feel I owe it to her to try and get him to see reason. And I know that if I don't try and she doesn't make it, I'll regret it for the rest of my life, I don't' want to have to live with that'


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Hopefully I will get the next chapter up tonight as well. Again, I wasn't so happy with this chapter but with a bit of spit and polish I really like it. Its got another good dose of angst in, I can promise you that. Reviews please.**

* * *

'Can you give me Ray's number?' she asked as she passed him on the way out of the door.

He looked puzzled 'why do you want it?'

She looked over her shoulder at the girl sitting huddled on the couch 'I would think that was obvious, wouldn't you? We can't let her go on like this'

He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face 'I've tried Abby, god knows I've tried, Katey has too, he won't talk to her'

'I'm not doubting that Greg, but I need to try as well, I'm not going to lose her over this'

He looked at Neela 'You really think that's possible?'

If she was honest she couldn't see it being any other way, she couldn't see a way back for the girl she'd lived with, the girl she considered her best friend. She turned back to face him 'at the moment I can't see any other outcome, that's why I need to do everything I can'

He briefly closed his eyes 'I wish I didn't but I agree, Jesus, Abby, its so hard seeing her like this, I feel that I've let her and Mike down, and I don't know how I can make things right'

She lightly touched him on the arm 'I now Greg, I feel helpless too and I hate feeling like that, that's why I want to speak to him'

He pulled his phone out 'Okay, his number is…'

'Thanks Greg, I'll let you know how I get on'

* * *

He was packing up some of his belongings when he heard the muffled sound of his cell ringing, eventually he found it under a pile of boxers on his bed, he looked at the screen for a couple of seconds puzzled by the unfamiliar number 'Hey'

'Ray?' It's Abby Lockhart, I hope you don't mind that Greg gave me your number'

Abby. The last time he'd seen her or even spoken to her was that night, the one he would be reminded of for the rest of his life 'Nah, its okay, how are you doing?'

'Yeah, I'm okay, more importantly how are you? Greg told me what happened'

He felt himself tense, how dare Greg tell Abby? Who else had he told? He tried to calm himself down, wasn't it better that people knew, it would make it easier when he returned to County, surely. 'I'm getting there, its been hard and I'm under no illusions that it's going to be easy from now on, but I'll get there'

'That's good to hear, I wish that you'd told us about the accident though so that we could have been there for you, I thought we were friends'

'Don't go there, Lockhart, it was just something I needed to do on my own. I didn't want any of you to see me like that'

'But you phoned…, no you're right, I'll leave it, its none of my business'

He was beginning to realise that this wasn't a social call, it sounded like Abby had some sort of agenda 'what can I do for you Abby?'

'It's just' she paused 'I know Greg and Katey have mentioned this, but I'm worried about Neela, she needs you, Ray'

Ah, the words that could cut so deep. The idea of Neela needing him in the past would have been enough to send him running to her side, well that obviously wasn't possible now, but still the thought of it made him want to tear down buildings and flatten mountains to be with her.

'Abby just don't, please'

'All I'm asking is that you talk to her, is that too much. I know the last couple of years have been complicated between you two; I doubt I'll ever understand what's been going on. But she was once your best friend, wasn't she?'

'Abby'

'I remember standing in the Jumbomart with you not long after you started and she was at the till serving and you looked at he like she was the most beautiful girl in the world despite the fact that she was wearing that ridiculous foam Statue of Liberty hat and a face like thunder. Of course you were teasing her about it in no time'

He remembered that day too; he'd wanted desperately to make her smile, just to see if her smile was as beautiful as the rest of her. It had been and she'd only grown more so over the years that he'd known her, as she'd grown into herself and her confidence had increased.

'When she first moved in with you, she was constantly moaning about you using all the hot water, your so called 'girlfriends' coming over and your band hanging around, but you know what? I mentioned that to her just before she and Michael… and she said that you'd grown on her, that you were one of her closest friends, that she felt she could trust you with anything'

For fuck sake Abby was definitely out to pull at this heart strings, every word she was saying had a direct connection to that part of his anatomy and he was finding it hard to remain detached, hell, if he was honest, he had never been detached, he'd never stopped loving Neela. The question was still whether he wanted to open himself up to that kind of pain again.

'I know all that Abby, I was there, but you're right you don't know what's happened since…'

'I know she tried to be there for you, I know she called you constantly after her accident, that she wanted to help you, but you wouldn't let her'

He had taken some comfort in those phone calls, he'd never spoken to her, but he'd known she was thinking about him, maybe as much as he was thinking about her, it had made him feel less alone, that despite whatever was going on with them, she still cared. Perhaps he should have called her, it wasn't her fault that he hadn't wanted to speak to anyone, she had at least tried.

'Ray, just think about it. Think about the girl who helped treat your friends when that balcony collapsed, who pulled you up for walking out on that kid to go to your gig, who saved your ass over the Zoe situation. Think about the girl you lived with, the girl you called your roomie, the girl you say you fell in love with, because' she paused and he heard a hitch in her voice as she spoke again '… because she's not there anymore, that's not the person I've spent the last day trying to look after. I don't know if you can bring her back, but I do know that I need you to try, that she's worth trying for because I'm not ready to give up on her yet and neither should you be'

He couldn't speak, he could feel his throat tightening, restricting, he could feel a pressure forming behind his eyes and he could feel a constricting sensation in his chest, all of which were preventing any words from flowing. How, in just four sentences, had Abby managed to pull down all his defences and left him more exposed than he'd allowed himself to be in the last nine months? How had those few words been shot so deep into his heart that they'd left him reeling, unable to think about anything else? Greg and Katey had said similar things, but their words had not had the power to affect him like this, they'd made him frustrated, angry even, Abby had made him want to climb on the first plane and go home.

'Look, I'll think about it, that's all I can promise' he wasn't sure who was speaking because it couldn't be him, the voice was too calm, too controlled, that wasn't him, he was on edge, shaking, desperate to stuff clothes into a bag and board a plane, to hold her and never let go. But he'd be there on Thursday, he would be able to see her then, it was only two days, what difference could two days make?

* * *

'Neela, what's going on?'

She didn't reply, just continued to sit staring into space. All the tricks from the last time, her favourite TV programme, spending time with Joe, none of it was working, all she did was sit and rock back and forth.

'We need you to get better, we care about you and it's killing us to see you like this'

Nothing.

'Without you, we have to put up with Crenshaw doing ER consults and you know what he's like with us lowly ER doctors'

Not even a glimmer of a smile.

'None of what happened was your fault, you know, no one blames you for it except for yourself'

Silence.

'We just want the sarcastic Neela back, we want to hear you calling Gates a wanker, saying bloody, and bollocks, calling chips crisps, and cookies biscuits'

It was like talking to himself.

'Please Neela, just talk to me? I want to help you, Michael wouldn't want to see you like this, he loved you, we all love you' he considered his next words carefully 'Ray loves you'

Her eyes flickered towards him, the only sign that she was listening.

'He does, he's being stubborn and difficult but he loves you, I know it'

A light flared in her eyes 'If he loves me so fucking much why won't he return my calls, why won't he forgive me' her hands were in her hair, and she was pulling it out in chunks that made him flinch 'He doesn't love me, Greg, he hates me and he's right too, all I've done is hurt him, all I've done is cause him pain' she grabbed the TV remote from beside her and hurled it at the wall, where it smashed into pieces 'I don't deserve anything less than this, I'm a terrible friend, a terrible wife, a useless doctor... I don't deserve... I don't deserve to be loved... I'm not worth caring for' the tears started to spill over, the sobs pulling from her chest, as she continued to attack her skull, her face, any part of her body that she could get her fingers and nails to.

* * *

'Hey, it's Katey, how are you doing?'

'Not bad, it's been an okay sort of day, what can I do for you? It's unlike you to ring twice in a week, can't get enough of me, right?' his tone was just the right side of flirtatious.

'Mmh, yeah right' she didn't pick up on his joke, her voice was quiet and reflective 'Ray, I need to talk to you about something'

'Sounds ominous, okay, hit me with it'

'It's about Neela'

'Why won't you guys leave me alone, in the last two days I've had Greg and Abby telling me to forgive her, and now you want to talk about her, God, you don't even like her'

'That's not really true, I hated the power she had over you, but when I first met her I thought we could be friends, we got on well. I was jealous of how you felt about her, and I let it come between us'

'But you agreed with me that if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have been hit'

'I was wrong, it was an accident Ray, it wasn't anyone's fault, certainly not hers'

'But you said...'

'I'll regret saying that to her for the rest of my life, I can see what that, and everything else has done to her, and I hate myself for it'

'You're all being a bit overdramatic, aren't you?'

'I don't think so. Ray, I shouldn't be telling you this, I'm risking my career over it, but I think you need to know what's really going on'

'Go on then, you've all been skating around this for weeks, what has been going on with her?'

'Neela's been slowly trying to kill herself for months'

He didn't say anything.

'Ray, I understand you're angry, but this is no joke, she's not trying to seek attention, in fact it's the reverse. She thinks she's to blame for so much of what's happened to you, to Michael, she feels that everyone would be far better of without her'

'What exactly is she doing?' his voice was quieter; she could hear a hint of pain and concern coming through in his words.

'She's stopped eating, she's not sleeping, she won't speak to anyone, she just sits and stares into space, and... and she's started cutting herself, Abby found scars all across her stomach and thighs'

'What... what are you doing for her? Surely she's been admitted? You can help her right?' He could feel the fear coursing through his veins, why hadn't Greg or Abby told him this before? Why was he only hearing this now?

'I wish we could, she's top of the list for a psych bed, but we're full, and she keeps getting knocked down the list when someone comes in who's dangerous to others. The guys and I, we're doing everything we can for her, but it's not enough, I don't know Ray, I just don't know'

'Wha... What? You have to do something' No, no, this couldn't be real, this was some kind of nightmare surely. He was going to wake up any minute and it would be okay, and she'd be okay.

'Ray there's something you can do, just talk to her, tell her you forgive her; I think hearing that from you might make all the difference'

'I don't know if I'm ready to yet' the uncertainty in his voice was plain to hear.

'Can't you just say it, please just give her that, you still love her, don't you?'

'Yeah, I do, but I'm don't think I'm ready for that yet, it'll open up all the old wounds'

'What's worse, that pain, or losing her, think about it, it's all I can ask'

When he put the phone down he was tempted to pick up it up again to call her, but he would be back in Chicago tomorrow, what could happen in a day?

* * *

72 hours had passed since Neela had collapsed, she was once again staying with Greg, but the person residing in his spare room wasn't anyone he knew, her spirit, her soul, had left her body, and all that was left was a shell, that was slowly shutting down as well. She hadn't said a word in the previous 48 hours, not since her outburst at Greg, she hadn't eaten, she hadn't done anything and there was still no bed in psych.

Her hair hung limply around her pale, gaunt face as she sat currently huddled in the corner of the couch, her arms wrapped around her legs, rocking back and forth. There was a plate of food on the coffee table in front of her, but she hadn't even acknowledged its existence, let alone touched it. The thin veneer that she'd built up around her over the last couple of months had come crumbling down and they were all appalled by what it had revealed.

'Look man, I'm looking after Neela, I can't leave her, can't you understand that?' he was pacing up and down Greg's lounge, talking persuasively into his cell.

'Yes Dr Gates I understand that you're looking after your friend, but this isn't a crèche service, you are an ER doctor, I have an ER to run, we've got a major incident and I need all my doctors in now, and that includes you, I'm not making any exceptions'

'But…'

'No buts Dr Gates, If I don't see you in this ER within the hour, you can forget about ever practising medicine in this country again, do I make myself clear' Moretti slammed the phone down.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stabbed a finger at the disconnect button, kicking out at the couch at the same time 'fucking asshole' For a couple of seconds he just stood there, look at her, watching her rock back and forth. He moved over to her, pushing aside the plate of food before perching on the edge of the coffee table and taking her hands in his.

'What do you think I should do Mayday?'

She didn't say anything; he smiled weakly at her as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. It was so painful to see her like this, so beaten and lacking in spark, it was a long way from the girl he'd argued with, and then passionately made out with, in the conference room a year and a half ago.

'I'm going to ring Greg, he might have some ideas' talking to her was almost like talking to someone in a coma, you couldn't be sure she was listening or paying attention but you had to keep trying. He didn't stray from her side, or let go of her hands as he dialled Greg's number.

'Greg? It's Tony, look I know its busy there, Moretti's just called me back in, he's threatening my career if I don't show up in the next hour, but I don't want to leaver her, have you any ideas?'

'I know, I've just spoken to Chaz, he's on his way over, he'll stay with her until one of us can get away'

He let out a sigh of relief 'Any idea how long he'll be?'

'10 minutes or so he said, look just go, he's got keys, he can let himself in, I'm sure she'll be okay for that long'

'Thanks man, I owe you' He hung up the phone.

'Mayday, I've got to go into work, some kind of major trauma, all hands to the deck type of thing. Chaz is on his way over, he should be here in the next ten minutes, will you be okay until then?' Unsurprisingly she didn't reply. He sighed again and leant forward to kiss her on the forehead. 'I hate doing this but I've got to go, you know where we are if you need anything' he walked away, as he got to the door, he turned and took one last look at her, and as he did so he wondered why he felt like was personally hammering the final nail into her coffin.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. This is definitely M rated for graphic imagery. I'm going to start this with an apology, I may or may not be going back on a promise that I made to some of you a while back, you will understand what I mean when you get to the end, though I'm sure most of you are expecting this, my second apology is for the fact that this will be my last update for the next two weeks as I'm going on holiday tomorrow. Yes, I know I'm evil, I've been desperately trying to reach this chapter so I could leave you with a cliff hanger, I hope you enjoy it. As usual, please review, because I may be away but I will be writing.**

* * *

The actual act of moving back hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be. Kevin Moretti had told him about some new apartments that were wheelchair accessible and he'd gone on line and found a website for them. As soon as he'd seen the images he'd been on the phone to rent one and he was pleased to see that the reality of it lived up to his expectations. He'd hired a removal company to move his stuff, it seemed excessive but there was no way he could have moved it all on his own and apart from Moretti, no one knew he was coming back. He hadn't wanted to tell Abby or Greg or Katey in case something had happened, in case it hadn't worked out. That, and the showman in him wanted the grand entrance of walking back into the ER. That wasn't why he was back though. 

He reached into his pocket to check the time on his cell, but it wasn't there and he realised he must have put it down somewhere earlier. The kitchen was the most likely spot; he'd been unpacking in there while the removers brought the rest of the boxes in. He'd ended up doing a lot of the cooking when he'd been at home once he'd learnt to negotiate the various obstacles in the kitchen, first in his wheelchair, and then on his prosthetics, he'd had to. He'd forgotten how bad a cook his mother was, even worse than Neela and that was saying something.

The thought of her made him stop in his search. He'd hardly slept for the last few nights, concern about the move, worry about Neela eating away at his sleep. And he definitely hadn't slept in the 24 hours since talking to Katey. Abby's words had distressed him enough but what Katey had said had terrified him. Before he'd spoken to them this week, he'd been dreaming of walking down that surgical corridor to her, to show her he'd made it through, that he was capable of helping her through her own nightmare, but his sleepless nights had proved once and for all that he didn't need to forgive her, because in reality he didn't blame her, it had just been easier to focus his anger on her instead of admitting that it was just a tragic accident. He just hoped they could rebuild their friendship, and possibly, hopefully something much more.

_I ran the blade of the scalpel across my fingertip and watched as the droplet of blood sprung to the surface. It was sharp; I had been worried that the blade would be blunt, I couldn't remember how I came to have it, Greg had searched my belongings when I'd moved back in, but he'd obviously missed it. When Tony had said Chaz was coming over, I'd sat there and waited, and when he didn't appear after an hour or so I'd realised that it was the opportunity I'd been waiting for. I wasn't sure if I could carry through with my intentions, it seemed so drastic but I hated feeling the way I did. I'd tried, I really had, to lift myself from this hell I was inhabiting, for a while I even thought it was working, my sessions in psych, my friends around me I started to feel more positive, but it had just been a temporary illusion. _

_I watched as the droplets of blood leaked from the cut. Even before I was a surgeon, there was something about watching a scalpel cut into skin that fascinated me. The ability of the blade to break through the protective barrier, the deep red globules appearing on the surface. I'd been cutting myself for weeks; they'd found the scars, healing and fresh on my stomach and thighs when I collapsed that day. For a few minutes the act of cutting had alleviated my pain, but that respite had never lasted and it hadn't been long before I was desperate to cut again. This time though, I wasn't contemplating simply cutting myself. This was bigger than that. It wasn't about momentary respite. I'd had enough; I needed for it to be over._

_There was one last thing I needed to do before the cool metal touched my skin for the final time. I hadn't tried to speak to Ray since that night three months ago, when I'd been numbed with tequila, but not so numb that I hadn't felt his rejection when the phone went dead. Then I'd been calling for forgiveness, and in a way that was what I was doing this time, but really all I wanted was to hear his voice one last time. To say goodbye without saying the words. For his voice to follow me into the great unknown, to be the last I heard. For the light to fade with his beautiful accent resounding in my head. I dialled the number and held my breath, it rang and it rang and then with a click I heard what I'd been longing for for so long, his voice, I'd reached his voicemail. I wasn't to get my final wish._

He found his cell buried under a pile of bubble wrap and newspaper, he checked the time, he needed to get going, he was slower on his feet these days and he knew there would be none of the last minute dashing out of the door that had been an every day occurrence in the past. As he glanced at the screen he noticed the message stating that he had new voicemail; he'd have to check it on the El, otherwise he'd be late.

Once on board, he grabbed a seat and flicked through the options on his cell until he reached the voicemail one. Neela. It had been so long since he'd heard her voice, he hadn't allowed himself to talk to her since he'd left, too much pain and hurt and emotions that he hadn't been able to address.

But her message scared him. It wasn't her words so much, she was asking for his forgiveness, but her voice was weak and, it sounded, it sounded haunted, as if the act of speaking was too much for her, as if she was trying to say goodbye. As he listened to her message he realised that they hadn't been exaggerating, if anything they'd probably been protecting him from the full extent of her illness and it was like a cold blanket had been draped around his body and he felt that he would never be warm again.

He thought about her words, forgiveness, how could he forgive her when there was nothing to forgive? It had taken him so long, too long, to realise that she wasn't to blame for the accident, that that was all it was, an accident. Could he make her see that? He wanted to see her to talk to her, but he'd made a commitment to Moretti and he couldn't break it.

He closed his eyes remembering the last time he'd seen her, in that stark white hospital room, still dressed in blue scrubs, her voice choked with emotion, her large, brown eyes shining bright with unshed tears. Her tender kiss on his neck, meeting her eyes, so many things unsaid, and then her promise 'you'll get through this, I promise' and he had, and in the process he'd pushed her away, but he was back now, and he was going to help her through her own private hell too.

Greg had been wrong, it had never been about walking back into County, that had never been the important part, deep down it had always been about walking back to her, but he'd been afraid to admit it, to leave himself open to her rejection again. He wanted to show her that he was just as capable of looking after her, of loving her, as he'd ever been, so what if his legs were made of metal and plastic, it couldn't detract from how he felt about her. He wished that he could give this 'thing' a miss, and just go to her, but he'd promised Kevin and he'd been good to him about the job, the apartment, everything, and the responsible Ray, the person he'd become under her influence, couldn't let him down. He was determined that he'd find Abby or Greg afterwards and find out from them where she was. She'd only left the message 20 minutes ago, in theory he would be with her within the hour, two max. He'd been gone nine months, surely two hours wouldn't make too much of a difference, but he knew he was trying to convince himself of that and that he wasn't succeeding either.

_I had a moment of conscience about what I was about to do, it didn't stop me, my only concession was to move from Greg's spare room to the bathroom, the mess would be less in there. I leant against the wall, the scalpel light in my hand, I knew this wasn't the quickest way to go, but my options were limited, if my meds hadn't been locked away that would have been my chosen method, but he rightly didn't trust me with them, so this was all I had. I drew the blade across the pale skin on the inside of my right wrist and realised instantly that it needed to go deeper than the cuts on my stomach and thighs had. I tried again on my left but it still wasn't deep enough, though the blood was bubbling to the surface. I pulled the blade across my right wrist for the second time; I felt as it sliced through the ulnar artery and the blood started to pump down my palm. I transferred the scalpel to my right hand, my blood leaching onto the handle, and cut deep into my left wrist. I felt the life flowing out of those two broken arteries as everything became a rich shade of blood red, it was like one of Ray's horror films, blood smearing down the shiny, white tiles, running across the cool, slate floor, being absorbed by the fluffy, white towels._

_My eyes flickered shut, and once again I was in the apartment I'd always thought of as home, with the only person I'd ever really loved, I was happy, I was at peace, all the pain was gone, and finally my guilt was easing, and then I was in a car, in the snow, and my lips were meeting his in the most exquisite kiss I'd ever experienced and I knew that it was finally over._


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Apologies, Ash pointed out a major discrepancy with Ray's behaviour in this part that I had to correct, which ended up with me rewriting a fair lot of it to make sure it still worked. I'm a lot happier with the outcome, can't have Ray behaving too unrealistically. I've also tried to tone down Dr Moretti a bit as a few of you commented on that. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**20 minutes earlier:**

He couldn't leave it like that, he was too worried, too scared, not to act on her message. What she'd said was so private, so personal, that he knew she'd been alone when she left it. She wouldn't have made that call in front of Greg or Abby or anyone else for that matter. Neela was a private person, not one to share her feelings easily, if anyone knew that he did, it was something that neither of them did well, if they did, well who knows how things would have worked out. He replayed her message, listening for the subtle nuances in her tone, for the points she faltered, and he felt the blanket that had wrapped itself round him when he'd first listened grow tighter and icier.

She'd been alone when she left that message, he knew that, the questions he found himself asking, the ones that caused his body to shudder were how long had she been alone? How often was she alone? How could they protect her all the time when the person they were protecting her from was herself? A lump was growing in his throat and it was making it hard to swallow, as his mind kept coming back to that question 'how long had she been alone', it only took a couple of minutes, he had to force his mind to complete that unwelcome thought, to swallow some pills, to take a blade to a wrist. And what then, she'd be gone and he'd have to spend the rest of his life without her, that couldn't happen, he couldn't let it.

His hand was shaking violently as he pulled out his cell. He tried Greg first, but it clicked straight to his voicemail, he forced words past the lump in his throat 'It's Ray, I've just had a disturbing message from Neela, I need you to check she's okay, get back to me. I'm in Chicago, on my way to County, if you can't reach me leave a message there'

He tried Abby's next and again there was no answer, the message he left was the same, and he dialled another number. It was Frank that answered.

'Frank it's Ray Barnett, is Abby or Greg there, I need to speak to them?'

'Barnett? What the f…'

'Frank, are they there or not?'

'They're both in trauma, I can't disturb them'

He sighed deeply 'Look, can you just ask them to call me, its urgent, it's about Neela'

He disconnected the call feeling that he'd let her down; that he hadn't done enough, that he'd failed. He found himself wondering who was with her if they were both in traumas, he didn't care if it was Gates as long as someone was there, if he'd known where she was he'd be heading there now. If only he'd heard that call, if he'd been able to talk to her, he couldn't finish that thought.

* * *

It was the first moment he'd had since he'd arrived back at County to check that Neela was okay. The phone was in his hand and he'd dialled the first couple of digits when he noticed Moretti approaching the admit desk, his intention clear. He replaced the handset, now obviously wasn't the time to be making personal phone calls.

'Dr Gates, a word please'

He fell into step with Dr Moretti as he walked towards the elevators, the area quieter than around the admit desk.

'I see that you decided to join us today' his tone seemed patronising to Tony 'I know that your friend isn't well and I understand how difficult it must be for you, Dr Lockhart and Dr Pratt especially, but I can't let any of that effect the running of this department.'

He wasn't at all sure how to respond to those statements, he'd acknowledged what they'd been doing but he was still saying that work was more important than Neela, and he could never believe that. Neela and Sarah were the most important people in the world to him, and even though he knew she could never love him the way she loved Ray a tiny part of him held out some hope that when, not if, when she was better she'd turn to him. Barnett was the biggest fool to reject her; he wouldn't make the same mistake. He'd be there if, not when, if she ever decided she wanted him again.

'You're turning into a good doctor, Dr Gates, I'll give you that, I never thought it could happen but you're getting there' he looked at his watch 'it looks like we're on top of things now, you and Dr Pratt should get back to your friend' he started to walk back to the desk, but paused and looked over his shoulder 'oh, and Dr Gates, Neela _is_ in my thoughts'

The man was addressing the rest of the doctors and nurses before he could muster a response.

'Listen up team' he saw Abby role her eyes at the term 'it looks like we're on top of things here, I know a few of your shifts were up hours ago and I just wanted to say thank you. Dr's Pratt and Gates, you can finish up now. Nurses should speak to the Nursing Manager about their shifts. The rest of you, I want as many of you in the lounge in half an hour as is possible, obviously critical patients come first, but there's a new doctor joining us on Monday and I want to introduce him'

A buzz started to go through the assembled group, the usual buzz that went through a place when someone new started, were they any good, where were they from, were they good looking, did they have kids, a significant other, what would they be like, all things up for debate and discussion even before they'd entered the door. In the past he would have been first in there to find out, but they needed to get back to Neela. He caught Greg's eye and indicated towards the lounge. He just needed to get his coat and he'd be ready to go.

He'd almost reached the door to the lounge when he heard Frank call out to Greg and he found himself being drawn back towards the desk.

* * *

He caught Tony's eye as he headed towards the lounge. He was exhausted and relieved that he was finally getting to leave, he had been worrying about Neela and worrying about Chaz looking after her for the last few hours, he'd not said anything to Gates or Abby but he knew his brother wasn't really aware of the severity of the situation and even though he'd tried to fill him in earlier he wasn't convinced he'd got it, so the sooner they got back the better.

He heard Frank calling out to him as he approached the exit 'Pratt, what do you think I am, your personal answering service? Your brother's been on the phone all afternoon, and Barnett called for you as well, something about Neela' Greg looked at Tony, fear and confusion filling his eyes, as he moved back to the admit desk. Barnett? Surely he couldn't mean Ray, why was he ringing?

'Dr Pratt, can I have a word' Katey appeared at his side as he picked up the phone.

'One minute, I need to ring Chaz back, he's with Neela' he replied dialling the number with shaky hands. That was the priority making sure she was okay, then he'd speak to Katey, and then he'd call Ray.

'That's why I'm here, we've got a bed for her, you need to get her in here asap'

He sighed with relief that was a great weight off his shoulders 'thank God, hey Chaz, what's up?'

'I got called back to work after I spoke to you, I haven't made it to your apartment yet'

'She's on her own? Fucking hell Chaz, why didn't you say something?' his heart was pounding, the weight had slammed back down onto his shoulders, all his worst nightmares were coming true.

'That guy on the desk wouldn't take a message, I've been trying to get through to you every chance I could get for the last two hours'

'Look, I've got to go' he slammed the phone down.

He felt the fear and adrenaline take over his body as he ran for the door, she was on her own and she was suicidal, all the possible scenarios were swimming through his mind, they hadn't prepared for this, she was never meant to be alone. Everything else flew out of his mind, the need to get to her overwhelming. If there'd been time he would have torn Moretti's head from his body for forcing this situation, but that could wait, all that was important was Neela.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten about Gates.

'What's happened?'

He briefly glanced at the other doctor, never breaking stride 'she's on her own, Chaz got called back to work, he never made it to her'

'Shit!'

* * *

His thoughts hadn't strayed from her, he'd thought he would be nervous, apprehensive even, about returning to County, seeing his old colleagues, but what did that matter if she… hurt herself, he couldn't let himself think those thoughts. Abby's words were repeating in his mind 'think about the girl you lived with, the girl you called your roomie, the girl you say you fell in love with, because … because she's not there anymore, that's not the person I've spent the last day trying to look after'; he'd heard that in her message, her sarcasm, her enthusiasm, whatever you called it, that thing that made her Neela, somewhere along the way she'd lost it, it hadn't been there in that voicemail. All he'd heard was a flatness, a defeatedness as if everything was too much, and honestly, that scared him, because it was like she'd given up, and she couldn't give up, he wouldn't let her. That was why he'd made those calls, he just wished that he'd managed to speak to someone other than Frank, he wasn't sure he trusted him to pass the message on.

As he cautiously stepped out of the carriage, halting briefly to regain his balance, he found himself pulling his cell out of his pocket and punching in a sequence of numbers that he knew so well even though it had been so long since he'd used them. It was a call he should have made earlier, after he'd tried to speak to the others, he knew that, but he'd been too scared to make it. He paused on the platform waiting for her to answer, but all he heard was it ringing and then clicking onto her voicemail. He didn't leave a message.

He continued on his way to County, stopping at the corner of the ambulance bay to try again; there was still no answer but this time when it clicked to voicemail he left one 'Neela it's Ray, I got your message. I'm just back in Chicago, there's something I need to do but I was going to come over and see you after if that's okay, shouldn't be more than an hour or two. And Neela… there's nothing to forgive, you need to know that'

What he really wanted to say was that he hadn't wanted to hurt her, hadn't meant to cause her pain, that he loved her, but sharing his feelings with her had never been a strong point, if he had they may never have reached this place.

As he looked at the hospital in front of him, and the doors he'd been dreaming of walking through for so long, he would have given anything to walk away, to find her and never leave her, but a commitment was a commitment, she'd taught him that.

* * *

The journey back to Greg's apartment seemed to take an age even though they'd been lucky, most of the lights had been on green, and it had taken less than 20 minutes to get there. Greg hammered on the elevator button, but when it didn't appear instantly he decided to take the fire escape stairs, it was only three flights and it was better to be moving than standing still with the fear taking over.

His hand was shaking, and he was desperately trying to catch his breath, as he turned the key in the lock 'Neela, we're back' there was no answer, but that wasn't a surprise she hadn't said anything for over three days, now was unlikely to be the time she'd start. They could hear a phone ringing from somewhere, but they ignored it, it wasn't important. They moved through the apartment together but there was no sign of her, the only place left to check was the bathroom, the only closed door in the place.

'Neela, are you in there? If you are just let us know you're okay' there was no response. The two men looked at each other. Greg tried the handle, it was locked.

'I'm going to …' Pratt said, gesturing to the door.

'Yeah' Tony stood back, while he squared himself up to a door for the second time in his life, and with all his weight behind him, barged against it. The door sprung open with a crack.

The once pristine white bathroom was splattered with red, streaking up the walls, across the floor, and in one corner was the emaciated figure of Neela, the scalpel lying beside her right hand, two deep cuts on both wrists. Her clothes were soaked in her own blood, her skin turning deathly pale, lips changing from red to blue.

Tony grabbed a towel and pressed it against her wrists, in a hopeless move to try to quench the flow of blood.

Greg flipped his phone open and dialled 911. 'Paramedics, attempted suicide, two doctors in attendance, deep lacerations to both wrists, from the quantity of blood a couple of minutes max, pupils reactive, the address is' he reeled of the address 'hurry please' he checked that the apartment door was still open, and then returned to Neela's side. Tony raised his eyes to look at him, and he could see the pessimism in them.

'Come on Neela, stay with us' her eyes flitted around the room, not focusing on anything, and then fluttered shut.

'No, Mayday keep focusing on us, you need to stay awake' her eyes briefly flickered open and rested on Greg. She murmured something. He leant down to hear her, but couldn't make it out.

'I'm sorry, I didn't get that Neela' he leant closer as she repeated what she'd said. At that moment the ringing phone fell silent.

'Tell Ray I'm sorry, tell him I love him' and her eyes flickered shut again.

'Stay with us Neela, you can tell him when you're better, we'll get you through this and you'll be able to tell him' he pulled back her eyelids and her eyes had rolled backwards.

* * *

His heart was pounding as he entered the lounge at Dr Moretti's side. He'd never been nervous standing on a stage in front of crowds of groupies, but here, today, he was nervous, it had hit him with force just after he'd walked through the ER doors. He picked out Morris, Sam, Haleh and Chuny from the group gathered there, the group that was now whispering and sending sly glancing in his direction. No Greg, no Abby, and no Gates, he hoped that meant that they'd got his messages and were with Neela, he had to believe that was the case.

He could see them whispering and he could hear the murmurs, and he knew what they were thinking and wondering, and he also knew how much he'd changed since he'd last been here, he just wondered if they had at all. If there was one thing the ER was good at it was gossip and rumours and suppositions, and as much as he loved working at County that was the bit he hadn't missed, especially being the subject of those rumours, which he knew he was at the moment.

'Right there folks, I just wanted to say you did a good job today, an improvement on 9 months ago'

Ray glanced around at his old colleagues, Morris listening intently as if there was going to be a spot quiz afterwards with a hefty prize and Sam rolling her eyes at the sentiment. He saw Abby sneak quietly through the door and take up a position against the wall. She quirked an eyebrow in recognition and he smiled back, whilst feeling an iron fist take a hold of his heart. She wasn't with Neela; he had to hope that Greg and Gates were.

'We've got a new doctor starting on Monday, I'm sure quite a few of you already know him, but for those of you who don't this is Dr Ray Barnett. Dr Barnett has already completed 3 years of his residency at County however he was unable to finish it at the time due to health reasons but we hope that he will be able to now'

He found his mind flipping back to a previous time, a place he'd far rather be, an evening on a couch with her head on his shoulder watching Celebrity Poker, that was where he wanted to be. Not here, standing in the ER lounge, surrounded by people he used to know who were looking at him curiously, not worrying that the girl he loved had hurt herself, or worse. After so long of thinking it was a secret it was clear now from the glances he was getting, especially those aimed at his lower limbs, that most people knew about his accident, and his injuries, and if they didn't know for a fact, they'd heard rumours. He was almost tempted to roll up a trouser leg and show them what they wanted to see, but he knew he wouldn't do that; he wasn't comfortable enough with his prosthetics to do that, yet. He knew that the curious glances weren't cruel as such, they were just that, curious. It was hard to believe that these people saw similar injuries on a regular basis but not in these circumstances, not to a colleague or friend.

'As some of you may be aware Ray was involved in a horrific accident last year and he has suffered through many months of rehabilitation to get to the stage of being able to join our team again. I trust that you will make him very welcome and provide him with any assistance that he might need. Now get back to work, there are patients to treat'

There were smiles, and nods and warm, friendly 'hello's' as the room quickly emptied, until he was standing there with Abby and no one else in the room. He opened his mouth to ask if Neela was okay, if she'd got his message, but she spoke first.

'Are you going to see her?' she was straight to the point.

'She rang me, did you get…' he was interrupted as Moretti stuck his head back round the door.

'Lockhart, your patient's crashing again'

She looked at him in apology 'stay here, I'll find you as soon as I'm done, okay? We'll talk then'

'Where is she?' he called out after her, but the door was swinging shut before he'd finished the sentence, and she didn't hear.

And then he was alone. He collapsed back on to the couch, a couch he'd slept on on many an occasion, sighed deeply, and waited, there was nothing else he could do.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER and I'd much rather own Shane West in any case! This chapter seems to be a bit different to me, I can't work out why so apologies if it doesn't work. I was trying to keep away from getting caught up in the medical part of a trauma, so its more about emotions and feelings. Hope you enjoy, reviews please!**

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It had been a strange day, eerily quiet and then the traumas piled in and chaos ruled, yet apart from Abby's patient it had quietened right down again. There were patients waiting for beds, and those being monitored for a while, but no one had demanded Archie Morris' attention since he'd left the lounge after Moretti reintroduced Ray. 

Ray was still in there, that he knew, and he kind of felt that he should go in there and speak to him, but he felt sort of uncomfortable about doing it. He knew what people thought of him, that he was a bit of a joke, someone to have a laugh at, but not to be taken too seriously; that wasn't who he wanted to be though. He wanted to be the cool doctor, the one that pushed the boundaries, the doctor that the nurses and patients fancied; he wanted to be the doctor Ray had been. He thought he was a pretty good doctor, maybe not the best, but pretty good all the same, he got on relatively well with everyone, he wasn't sure if that was just because they put up with him, he doubted he'd ever really know. The main thing he was lacking was the attitude, the laidback manner, the ability to flirt without being hit, to charm the nurses into doing what he needed. He'd thought they'd been friends; him the sidekick to the cool guy, and it had hurt somewhat when he'd found out that Ray had been in touch with Greg since he'd left, but not with him. He'd wondered if it was because Ray didn't value his friendship as much as Greg's, or if he'd thought that he'd crack lame, tactless jokes, not be able to deal with the seriousness of the situation, again he didn't know.

That was why he wasn't in there with him, that and he'd heard rumours that he wouldn't talk to Neela, that he couldn't understand. He'd seen her just the day before, spent a few hours with her and Hope, and he would have given a hell of a lot for her to throw an emesis bowl at his head, or to give him a withering look of despair and a sarcastic comment, but instead she'd just sat curled up in the corner of the couch and not said a word. How Ray could turn his back on her when she was like that he didn't know, and he was sure if he went in there now he'd blurt that out, which was why he was still out here.

So instead he'd found himself starting at a computer screen for the last 20 minutes or so, a screen that might as well have been blank for all he saw on it. The sound of a rig pulling into the ambulance bay was like music to his ears, he had to hope that it was something gritty, something messy, that he could really get his teeth into, something to pull his mind away from his 'friend' in the lounge. He was out of his seat and at the door before the rig pulled to a stop, adrenaline already pumping in his veins, and as the doors to the ambulance opened he realised that Sam had appeared at his side. He looked at her briefly as her eyes widened and a gasp escaped from her mouth, even as they both moved forward, instinct taking over, and then he followed her gaze to the back of the rig and at that moment he felt his body freeze. It was just for a second, that second when he saw Gates climb out, his face grey and ravaged by worry and pain, he'd aged 10 years at least in the time since he'd left, but it wasn't his face that caused Morris to freeze, it was the red on his hands, the red soaking into his clothes, the smear of red across his cheek, the red which his mind wasn't quite allowing him to equate with blood. He stepped forward as Gates pulled the stretcher out and he saw that Neela was lying on it, long dark eyelashes against her cheeks, looking somewhat darker due to the deathly hue of her skin, more red seeping through the blanket and bandages enveloping her.

He heard Sam take a deep inhale of breath before snapping into professional mode 'what are her vitals?'

It was Greg that answered, like Gates his clothes were covered in blood and his face was ashen, he reeled off the figures and then 'she's lost a lot of blood. We've had to shock her twice'

The haze in his mind cleared instantly, he grabbed one side of the stretcher, Gates the other, and they pushed the trolley into the hospital, their feet gaining speed as they rushed through the doors, the faces of the doctors and nurses blurring as the four of them made their way to the empty trauma room. There was one moment though where time stood still, as they pushed open the doors to Trauma 1 Abby stepped out of Trauma 2, and in that one moment he saw the colour drain from her face as she took in the situation.

* * *

It was the trauma rooms swinging shut that pulled Abby from her reverie. She pushed the doors to Trauma 1 back open and the sounds of a trauma waved over her. The thump of the patient being transferred from stretcher to gurney, the vitals being reeled off, the calls for IVs to be placed, the requests for more blood, the labs to be done and the reassuring steady pulsing of the heart monitor connected to the patient. 

Except this time it wasn't a patient, this time it was Neela, her best friend, and even as she found herself being pulled into the trauma, carrying out tasks that were second nature to her, she couldn't stop thinking that she'd been here too many times before. So many friends, colleagues, hurt, she'd treated so many, and this one was her closest female friend, the person she was closest to except for Luka, and this was the third time she'd treated her in as many months. She couldn't help but think that it looked like, from Neela's point of view at least, that it was going to be third time lucky.

She'd seen this sight many times before, the blood, the open wounds and sometimes they managed to save the patient, often they couldn't. Neela's cuts were deep, accurate but she hadn't cut in the most effective way, but at this moment it made no difference, what made a difference would be the amount of blood she'd already lost, it would be up to the surgeons to sew her veins back together, and at least this way, there was a chance for them to do that.

She heard Greg bark orders at Sam for more blood; she felt the fear as Neela's pressure started to drop, and then she heard the steady dull whine that signalled heart failure. The tension in the room increased as the defibrillator was charged, as Gates carried out compressions on her chest to keep the blood flowing to her brain and organs, as she started to bag her.

From the look Greg and Gates exchanged this wasn't the first time she'd crashed. She hated herself for thinking it, but for a second she wondered if they should just let her go, their jobs were to save lives, to make people better, she couldn't believe that she was standing there wondering if that was the right thing to do, if it wouldn't be better just to let her go, it was obviously what she wanted, but no, that was wrong, they had to do everything to save her, this was Neela for God's sake. The girl who'd stood beside her at her wedding, who she'd laughed with and commiserated with, whom she'd shared happy days and hellish days with.

'Clear' they all moved back as Greg applied the paddles to her chest, holding their breath as the electricity discharged but the monitor continued to whine.

'Resuming compressions'

Gates returned to Neela's side, his hands on her chest, the pressure in his arms desperately trying to force the blood to keep flowing, sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion.

'Clear' again they stopped what they were doing, again her body jumped as the paddles were discharged and again there was no change.

She was squeezing the bag-valved mask to keep a steady flow of oxygen to Neela's body as her thoughts drifted to her daily phone call with Luka. He knew the whole sorry tale, he'd heard her cry tears of anguish and frustration, he'd tried to comfort her the best he could without being there to take her in his arms and give her a big bear hug. That was what she needed more than anything, to feel his arms wrap tight around her. She felt herself tremble momentarily at the idea of calling him in an hour or so to tell him that what she'd been so desperately hoping not to happen had happened, because her hope was fading fast now, and it seemed inevitable that she'd be making that call.

Then she remembered that Ray was in the lounge and just for a second she wondered what it would be like to be him hearing that news, what it would be like if it was Luka lying there instead of Neela. She couldn't think about that and retain the level of composure needed to remain the trauma room, even that briefest moment had made tears spring to her eyes. The last time she'd spoken to Ray, properly spoken, not those brief few words in the lounge, but their conversation on the phone, she'd heard in the few words she'd allowed him to say how much he still loved Neela, he hadn't needed to say it in words, it was in his tone, the hitch in his voice, the pauses, the silences, they all said it for him. How would he take it if that was what it came to?

He needed to be in here, he should be in here, she knew that, but she couldn't stop what she was doing, and neither could anyone else, it really would be goodbye if they did. She could only hope that Sam thought to get him when she came back from the blood bank.

* * *

Greg had found himself over the last few days preparing for what now seemed to be the inevitable, listing in his mind what he'd have to do, who he'd have to call, her parents, Ray. He still loved her, he'd admitted that, but he hadn't been sure if he could forgive her. Would he ever be able to forgive himself for not forgiving her, would he be able to deal with the guilt and loss better than she had? It was a phone call he dreaded making. He'd spoken to her parents many times over the last few months, they understood the severity of her depression, but they were too far away and to removed from their daughter's life to have any influence on her. There would be a funeral to plan, that was on his list as well, a list drawn up out of necessity, whilst hoping like hell he'd never see the day he would need it. His hope hadn't quite gone yet, but in all honesty, the chances of not needing that list by the time the day was done were running slim. 

'Clear'

Once again he applied the paddles to the chest of the girl he'd been looking after for so many months, the girl he'd looked after so well that she was lying here on a gurney and they were fighting for her life; a life she'd already given up. He remembered the silent promise he'd made Michael at his funeral, that he would look after her no matter what, he'd broken that promise, he wasn't sure when exactly but he'd broken it, he hadn't kept her safe. Now he would give anything to have another shot, he'd do whatever it took to get her better, but every time he shocked her, and she didn't respond, the chances of that faded.

'Resuming compressions'

The room was silent apart from the medical instructions and requests, and the electrical sounds of the monitors, there was none of the usual talk or banter of a trauma, everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own thoughts to share them with the others.

They'd had to shock her twice in the ambulance, they'd got her back though, but that was the third time here and he found himself wondering how many times they would continue to try before he had to call it. The thought filled him with overwhelming dread; he wasn't ready to give up on her.

Morris had swapped places with Gates, his hands were now the ones trying to keep her blood flowing, trying to give him the best chance at saving her.

As the defibrillator charged again, he found himself questioning whether they were doing the right thing. She wanted this to be over, he'd seen her pain, her grief, her sorrow over the last few months and most especially over the last few days and he couldn't help but wonder if saving her was the right thing to do. And then he thought of standing beside her grave, burying her as they had done Michael, knowing that he'd let them both down, and he knew he wasn't ready to let her go yet.

'Clear'

* * *

He could feel the dampness of his clothes against his skin, the dampness where her blood had seeped through. He'd held her in his arms as he tried to quench the flow, he'd felt her frail body against his and couldn't help but remember how, a year and a half ago, he'd held the same body naked in his arms for the first time. It no longer felt the same, where once were curves, there were now angles, where once there had been softness there was only brittleness, she felt like she would snap with the gentlest of touches. He'd held her as both he and Greg had attempted to soak up the flow of blood with pristine white towels, trying desperately to keep her with them while waiting for the paramedics. 

He'd been there when Meg died, when she'd decided that she'd had enough of life, he'd stood in this very room, trying to keep her heart beating, her blood flowing until it had become apparent that she wasn't coming back, and then he'd felt himself collapse, sliding down the side of the gurney, his head in his hands as the enormity of the situation hit him. Neela had been there with him that day, she'd been with him when he'd found Meg and right through until the end, and it felt so wrong that he was here with her like this again. He should have seen the signs earlier, he'd missed them with Meg, but he should have learnt from that, he should have gotten her help the instant he realised, he should have pressed them, forced them to see what was wrong, if he had they wouldn't be here now. He didn't want this to end the same way as it had with Meg. It couldn't end like Meg.

There was no doubt in his mind that they had to keep going, had to keep trying to bring her back. He couldn't lose her as well, couldn't bear to wake up in the morning to know she was gone. When they'd first got together, all it had been about was passion, a physical desire so strong it had to be acted upon. Something had changed in the months that followed though, as he'd spent more time with her, and somewhere along the line he'd found himself falling in love with her, he knew his manner hadn't always shown it, but he loved her all the same. She'd seen through all that, seen through the arrogance and cockiness which was all the others had seen, she'd let him talk about Iraq, talk about the friends he'd lost there, including Sarah's dad, and it had helped ease his pain. But it hadn't eased her pain, he thought it had at the time, thought that she'd come to terms with Michael's death, accepted that it wasn't her fault, he'd got that wrong though, it had taken her another year and a half to accept that.

He remembered asking her on a few occasions what was going on with her and Barnett, and she'd always said nothing, but now he knew it wasn't nothing, it was love. Love and pain, and hurt and guilt, but most of all love. The guy was a fool for treating her like this, but if he'd only come back and make her happy, he would walk away willingly. At this moment all he wanted was for her to be happy.

* * *

As Sam pushed open the doors her heart caught in her throat, the scene in front of her was the one that she'd been fervently praying she wouldn't have to witness. 

'Clear'

She was frozen in the doorway, watching. She saw the emotionless expressions on all their faces and knew that they were just shields for the pain that was hidden behind them. She wondered how long she'd been down, how much longer they were going to keep going; there was a determination about Greg's face, he wasn't ready to give up yet, she could sense the same from Gates as well, they were going to keep going for as long as it took. At some point though someone was going to have to call it if there was no change, as much as they didn't want to, it was highly likely that they would have to let her go.

'Clear'

She liked Neela, they weren't as close as she was to Abby or Pratt, but they'd had a laugh, they'd got on well. She was reminded of a packet of photographs she'd found the night before, taken on her birthday a year ago. A random selection of images of them all out at Ike's; she'd found herself pausing at the ones of Neela, one of her with Abby, a couple of group shots, and one of her and Ray. What struck her was how vibrant, how alive she looked, a gloss to her curly hair, a bounce to her step that the camera had even managed to capture, and then there was the laughter and love that shone in her eyes as she gazed up at Ray. It was hard to equate that with the girl lying here.

Ray. He was here, should she get him? If this was it surely he'd want to say goodbye, she'd heard the rumours too, but she'd seen how he looked at Neela in that photograph, how he'd always looked at her, and there was a lot of love in that look, surely that couldn't have gone. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the persistent pulsing of the heart monitor.

'Sinus rhythm, thank god, lets get back to it, get that blood on board, where's surgery? Get them down here now, we need these veins stitched up, come on, we've not got much time'

* * *

The joint sigh of relief was audible in the room as they kicked back into action. It was Abby who paused as she picked up the phone 'Ray's here' 

Pratt looked at her in surprise 'What?'

'He's in the lounge, he should be in here'

'Hell yeah, why did you say anything? She was asking for him earlier'

The immediate battle wasn't over, she was still loosing blood, still a long way from stable, but for now they were relieved that there was still a battle to be fought.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. I'm still not sure I'm totally happy with this, but I think I could probably edit it until the cows come home, so here it is. If there was a Richter Scale for angst I think this would have quite a high rating, so don't say that I didn't warn you. As I've said before I wrote this part as a one shot, and have adapted it to fit in, but there will be more to follow. Reviews are like food for me, so please review!

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He would have said there was a spring in his step as he walked back into County if he hadn't known it was impossible. It was good to be back, it meant his life was getting back to normal. As he slowly walked through the ambulance bay, he noticed the black funeral cars lined up and he started to question their presence. The doors to the ER slid open and he saw Abby, Sam and Gates huddled around the admit desk. Greg was talking to the night shift, while the others talked among themselves. They didn't seem to be dressed for work, their attire was more sombre and he wondered if that was linked to the cars outside.

He met Abby's eyes as he cautiously entered, snow dusting his jacket. 'You okay?' she asked, smiling briefly.

'Yeah, its just the snow, I'm paranoid about slipping, it's going to take a bit to get used to' he gave what he hoped was a wry smile as he made his way to the locker room.

'This sounds awful, but does anyone else feel relieved that it's finally over' he heard Sam murmur, her words still managing to filter their way over to the lounge.

'Yeah, I know what you mean. I mean I hate that's she's gone, I'm relieved though that she's not suffering any longer, and its selfish I know but I'm glad that I don't have to worry about her now' Abby's words trailed off 'I can't help but think we should have noticed something was wrong earlier though, we might have been able to make a difference if we had'

'Like when? When he left?' Sam gestured with her head towards the locker room, she didn't notice him standing in the doorway. Their conversation was causing his chest to tighten, making it harder to breath.

'No, though he would have noticed that something was wrong sooner than we did. Further back than that, when Michael died, she never grieved for him properly, I don't think she was right after that'

That asshole Gates had been listening quietly up until then 'If you want to get to the real root of it all you have to go back to when she married Michael. She shouldn't have done it, and she knew it, she was trying to hide her true feelings from herself, and that's what she did from then on'

There was a long pause after that, as if they didn't know what to say in response; he used the time to try to comprehend what they were talking about, but his mind kept rejecting the thoughts, they couldn't be true.

'I found these last night when I was going through some stuff, she looks so happy in them' Sam handed them an envelope.

He edged closer as Abby and Gates flicked through the photographs that it had contained; he couldn't see what they were of until Abby stopped at one, sighed and laid it on the counter. When he peered at it, he saw that it was of Neela and him dancing. Sam's birthday. A year ago. His heart started to pound in his ears, making it hard to hear the rest of the conversation.

'God, I don't know if I can do this, it seems so wrong, she was too young' there were tears in Abby's voice.

'I can't believe she's not going to suddenly appear down here, demanding to know who called for a surgical consult, a vision in her blue scrubs' Tony murmured wistfully. None of them seemed to be aware of his presence.

'I just hope she's finally at peace now' Hope said, as she and Morris joined the group at the desk. For once Morris was silent, no joke or glib comment to lighten the mood.

Abby raised her eyes from the photograph, and saw Ray standing just off to one side, the colour draining from his face.

'Only page us in an emergency, I mean a real emergency, I've got to… I've got to bury a friend today, I do not want to be paged for something trivial, understand?' In the silence Greg's voice drifted over.

They nodded 'yes, Dr Pratt'

'Greg' Abby murmured, he turned around and saw where she was gesticulating.

'What the hell are you doing here, if you knew anything you would leave now, I do not want to see you, do you understand? You left it too late' he turned back to the rest of the group as Dubenko, Katey and Crenshaw joined them 'right, is everyone ready, we need to go now, the cars are outside'

'Greg, what's going on?' he moved nearer to him.

'Didn't you get what I just said, you left it too late, we've been calling you asking for your help for months, but you wouldn't come, you wouldn't even speak to her, we tried God knows we tried, but we weren't what she needed'

'Man, you're scaring me now, where is she? You were right, I was wrong to blame her, I'll sort it out with her, I love her, we'll make it work' He couldn't stop shaking, he held onto the edge of the admit desk to steady himself, he couldn't lose his balance now. But that wasn't what scared him the most, all these people here, all these words he'd heard, they were all leading his mind in one direction, a direction he couldn't let it go in, because it couldn't be true.

'For fuck's sake, do you not get it? You left it too late… you see those cars out there? They're taking us to her funeral… her funeral; we couldn't catch her… do you understand, now? Two years ago, I was there when she buried her husband, my best friend; here I am burying her… you could have stopped this… you were the only one she would have listened to… the only one she wanted… but you couldn't give her that. Get out of here… you're not welcome here anymore…' There were tears in the corner of Greg's eyes '…I couldn't catch her… we couldn't be with her 24 hours a day… couldn't force feed her… certainly couldn't stop her bleeding… we found her…'

'When?' he shook his head, the tears forming in his eyes and his knuckles going white as he gripped the counter. He wasn't aware of anything except the words falling from his friend's mouth.

'When? Thursday'

His eyes shut, his face turning white as he swallowed. His arms were shaking violently as he tightened his grip; they felt so weak he was sure he was going to collapse to the floor. The pounding in his head was making him dizzy.

'Shit, she rang you, didn't she? What the hell did you say to her?' Greg continued without letting him answer, he doubted he could have anyway, the lump in his throat was threatening to suffocate him and he would have welcomed it gladly 'we had no choice but to leave her that day, Tony and I got back as quickly as possible, we found her in the bathroom…I'll never forget it… the tiles were smeared with red… her red blood… she was curled up in the corner of the room… semi-conscious… we couldn't stop the blood… it was too late… she died in my arms…we couldn't save her… she died whispering your name... only you could've saved her'

Greg shook his head, and opened his eyes. The anger and bitterness that his face and voice held cut right through him 'walking back through those doors was all that was important to you, wasn't it'

He couldn't focus on what Greg was saying, couldn't process what he was being told, couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. He noticed the blackness encroaching his vision, seeping across his eyes, and greeted it wholeheartedly, hoping against hope that when he woke it would all have been a dream, a terrible, awful, horrifying dream, but a dream all the same. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be his reality.

He felt her lips on his neck as he woke and the relief flooded through him, she was still here, the pounding of his heart started to calm 'Hey'

'You'll get through this, I promise' she pulled away from him as he turned his head towards her.

He met her eyes and saw all he'd ever wanted in them 'you'll be with me, right? You're not going anywhere'

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at him 'I'm sorry, I can't, you'll be okay though' her grip on his hand lessened.

'No, not without you' she started to move away from him as her fingers slowly slipped from his.

'You've managed so far' He tried to grasp them as they slipped away, trying to keep her with him. It was no use though, the gap between them was widening.

'No, no I haven't, I need you in my life' as she moved further away her image started to blend in the surroundings.

'Neela'

For a moment she was everywhere but nowhere, always just out of his reach.

'Please, I love you'

A chill descended on the room as she disappeared and his cry echoed into the silence.

'Roomie'

Something was pushing at his shoulder, gently shaking him, and he heard a voice calling his name softly. He let the voice drag him back to reality, hoping to escape the hell of his dream world.

'Ray, wake up, Ray, sweetie, its just a dream, its okay'

He slowly opened his eyes, and saw Abby kneeling in front of him, a look of worry on her face. His breathing was laboured, and he could feel dampness on his face from where tears had fallen, his heart was still pounding, and he could feel his body shaking 'Neela… she hurt herself… she didn't make it… Abby… she didn't make it' the tears started to fall again.

Through his tears he didn't see the look that Abby gave him.

'Sweetie, Neela's here, she… she cut her wrists… we're doing everything we can for her… we think you should be in there… she was asking for you'

His eyes closed again, was he really awake? Or was this another part of the dream? Was the dream coming true? He raised his haunted eyes to Abby's 'not a dream then; reality'


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own ER. First of all I have to apologise for taking so long to update this, real life has reared its ugly ass over the last few weeks and I haven't really had the chance to write, and if I'm honest this chapter was causing me some problems. I'm not 100 happy with it, I couldn't get Greg at all, so much for those few days last months when I could hear the characters speaking their lines in my head, no such luck this time. Hope you enjoy, and reviews always welcome.

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He couldn't bring himself to leave the comfort of the lounge, couldn't bear to tear himself away from the security and reassurance it offered him. As long as he stayed there he didn't have to face what was going on out there, didn't have to face up to what she'd done. So many emotions were doing battle within him, he was filled with anger that it had come to this, that'd she'd taken it this far, he was terrified that he'd never see her again, never have her in his life again. He wanted to shout, scream, cry, he even wanted to laugh that life could be this cruel, what the fuck had either of them done to deserve all that had happened in the last year. But most of all he felt the overwhelming need to love Neela the way he loved her now for the rest of their lives, and for her to return that love. That was what mattered the most. The feelings and emotions overwhelmed him, made it impossible for him to move from the couch.

'Ray' he tore himself from his thoughts 'we should get back in there'

She didn't ask if he was coming with her, it was taken as given that he would accompany her back through that door, and now that she'd put a stop to his introspective there was nothing else for him to do. He just had to make his body move, place one foot in front of the other, that technique that he'd had so much practise at this year. This was different though, physically and emotionally that had been hellish, but he'd never questioned the purpose, the fact that ultimately life would be easier, better for doing it, this time though he wasn't sure he'd be able to say the same. His future was unknown, yes, he knew from experience that that was always the case, but he'd never felt it more than now. The future that he wanted, had dreamt about, lay with Neela, and from what Abby had said her future was hanging by the thread; even if she physically made it through this, how would she be emotionally, couldn't she survive this and still be the woman he'd fallen in love with, or had that thing that made her Neela already died? He dreaded the answer, but hoped with everything he had for the opportunity to find out. That way she'd still be there, the other possibility wasn't worth considering.

As they approached the doors to Trauma 1 the thought that kept crossing his mind was that it had never been about these doors so why was he so scared about what lay inside. He'd thought about walking through the doors to the ER, of walking back to Neela, but he'd never thought that the doors to Trauma 1 would fill him with such dread. How many times in the past had he barged through them to deal with some trauma, to treat some patient? How many times had she been at his side while he was in there? How many times had he raised his eyes to see her standing there, dealing with said trauma, a serious, determined look on her face? How many times had she raised her eyes and met his in that moment and smiled? Never, in all those times, had he ever imagined that it would be those doors that he would have to walk through when he walked back to her.

He stopped short of the doors, the emotions he was feeling inside causing such conflict that he couldn't move any further for a moment.

Abby hovered beside him, looking at him in concern 'you okay?'

He dragged his eyes from the swing doors and looked at her, all his emotions laid bare for her to see. He exhaled 'yeah' but still made no effort to move.

She smiled up at him 'I should get back in there, are you coming?'

'Yeah' he breathed the words and consciously placed one foot in front of the other until he stepped inside the room. He looked around the room, not allowing his eyes to drop to the gurney in the middle of the floor as he hovered just inside the doorway. Despite the refurbishment it hadn't changed that much since he'd last been here, he was sure the walls used to be yellow but now they seemed to be a dull sage green but apart from that it seemed the same. He looked at one side and glimpsed Trauma 2 through the adjoining doors and for a second his mind flashed back to being in this room with Greg the night of the plane crash, administering chest compressions to some patient, he couldn't remember his name, whilst berating Greg for not knowing where Neela was. He'd made his feelings perfectly clear that day as he'd harangued his friend for losing contact with her, and he remembered the sheer relief that had washed over him when he'd seen her through those doors. He steeled himself before he pulled his thoughts back to the present day, he didn't feel that relief today, but he still wasn't ready to face the woman lying on the gurney.

As he edged forward he took in the signs of trauma, the floor slippery with blood, the paper sheeting thrown down to absorb it, the machinery all with its specific purpose none of which he could remember for the life of him at this moment. His eyes fell on the doctors in the room, as they went about their jobs, only Morris and Abby wearing their lab coats, Greg's tie askew, but what held his attention was the dark staining on his shirt.

It was only when he was standing alongside her feet that he finally allowed himself to look at her. He felt all the oxygen in his body rip from his chest, it was enough to send him figuratively to his knees, this wasn't Neela, not the Neela he knew, not the Neela who'd been on his mind constantly in the last few days, much longer if he would only admit it. Subconsciously he reached out a hand to touch her, letting it rest just above her ankle, feeling her body temperature through the blanket, reassuring and warm. It was the only thing that was reassuring. Now that he'd finally made eye contact he couldn't look anywhere else, couldn't remove his hand from her body, the warmth one of the few things registering in his mind, that and the tingling sensation he always got when he touched her, even now, even here, he could still feel that.

He watched his hand resting on her leg, feeling somewhat detached from it, as if it was someone else's hand, as if he was someone else, and this was happening to someone else. He finally allowed his gaze to travel up the bed, finally taking in the details he'd missed the first time. Her heavily bandaged arms lying at her sides, the blood stains still visible on the blankets; the structure of those arms, flesh barely holding the bones and muscles in place such was her weight loss, the same was true around her neck line, her beautiful face grey and hollow, her cheekbones pronounced in her sunken cheeks, the dark, dark shadows surrounding her eye sockets, the silky soft hair that he'd so often wanted to reach out and touch, lank and dirty.

He felt the unmistakable crash as his heart plummeted from its place in his chest to the pit of his stomach, the taste of the warm bile that lurked in his throat, suffocating his words and breath, the salty tears shining with their desire to leak from his eyes as he watched her lying there. Without breaking contact he moved up the bed, his hand continuing to touch her, craving the contact, the sounds fading, dying away until they were the only two people in the room, the only two people left in the world. He stood stroking her hair, gazing down at her face whilst every memory he ever had of her flashed before him. Somehow, despite everything that had happened to her, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to him.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, it was only when he heard Gates clear his throat that he looked up again. He was standing with one hand on the swing door, his face was heavy with stubble, and for the first time Ray noticed how drained he look, which made him question, only very slightly mind, his belief that Gates only had one use for Neela.

The other man finally spoke 'you don't need me in here. Just… let me know if there's any change' the door reverberated behind him as he left the room.

Ray looked around the room again, Morris and Sam were no longer there either, he wasn't sure how he'd missed all these comings and goings, obviously so absorbed in the woman in front of him 'How…' he hadn't realised until he tried to speak how tight his throat felt and how thick his tongue had become, he made another attempt to ask the question 'how is she?'

His mind wavered again, slipping back into the past to a time when he'd give anything to watch her sleep, when he took such pleasure in realising that she'd fallen asleep whilst they watched some horror movie, or even on occasion one of her chick flicks, her head curled against the arm of the couch or, if he was really lucky, his shoulder, her face softening as sleep overcame her, her chest gently rising and falling with every breath. On those nights when it was his shoulder she was using as a pillow, he would tenderly ease his fingers through her long, dark hair, much as he was now, praying that she didn't wake up, never had he imagined that someday he'd be praying that she did wake up.

'She's…' Greg looked across at Abby as if to ask how much she'd told him, how much he knew. She shrugged; indicating without words that she'd said very little 'she's got deep, horizontal, lacerations on both wrists…'

He found himself looking up in surprise, meeting the other doctor's gaze, searching for confirmation. Horizontal, but that made no sense. He knew how many patients they saw that cut that way, not understanding how the anatomy of the wrists worked, but Neela should have known, not better that wasn't the right word, but she should have known how to do it effectively.

'I know I don't get it either, I'm guessing we'll never know what was going through her head this afternoon. Crenshaw's managed to patch up the lacerations; she'd made quite a mess of it. She crashed twice, once in the rig, and once here, the second time she was down for about 15 minutes, right?' he looked at Abby for confirmation 'but we got her back in the end. She lost a lot of blood, but she's stable so we just have to wait now…' Greg sighed deeply, his face losing some of its composure 'I just… we should have got there sooner, if we had we could have stopped her'

It took a moment for Greg's last words to register in Ray's mind and then it was like holding a flame to a piece of tinder, the smallest spark ignited his temper into a roaring, overpowering blaze in his chest 'you weren't there? She was on her own? You LEFT her on her own?'

Greg sighed wearily 'Don't start, Ray. Things happened today, there was nothing we could do about it…'

'THINGS happened? Things happened so you left her alone. Even though you knew she was suic… even though you knew she was like this' he saw a similar spark in Greg's eyes but he couldn't make himself calm down, to step back from what surely was going to be a heated… discussion. If he analysed it deeply he knew why he was doing it, why he was picking a fight with Greg, he was trying to deflect some of the guilt and blame he was feeling onto someone else. If he hadn't missed that call…

A sneer appeared on Greg's face 'Fuck you, Ray. We're only human we've done our best for her. You can't fire of accusations that we haven't been looking after her. Do you know what it's like to have this person who is so dependent on you for everything, do you know what it's like to feed someone, to wash them, to dress them, even when they don't want you to, do you know what it was like in here today fighting to save her when I knew, we all knew, that she didn't want to be saved, do you? Because don't you dare judge us for what we've done over the last few months unless you, unless you've been there, we've done all we could…'

No he didn't know what it was like to have someone that dependent on you, to rely on you for everything but he sure as hell knew what it felt like to be on the other end of it, to be the dependent one, to not be capable of doing anything for yourself. For a while, when was in the depths of self pity he'd thought that was how it was going to be for the rest of his life.

Greg noticed a shadow pass across Ray's face, and he sighed internally. He'd done it again, taken his frustration out on Ray when the guy had been through enough already and didn't need him adding to it 'Look man, I'm sorry I don't meant to take this out on you, it, I just don't need someone saying we didn't do enough when I don't know what else we could have done. Today…' he sighed again 'today all of these things happened, I couldn't get out of work, Tony had to lea…'

'Might have guessed he was involved somehow. What happened, did he have a better offer? Another bed to warm?' he sneered.

Greg ignored him, continuing as if he hadn't said a word '…leave her as we had a major trauma and Moretti called everyone in, threatened his job if he didn't stay. Chaz said that he'd stay with her until I could get off, but he got called back in as well, but I didn't get that message until Moretti let us go'

Oh, he wasn't sure what to do with that information, it made him that think that they probably hadn't got his messages either, and he wasn't sure if he should volunteer that she'd tried to ring him that afternoon. He left it for the moment, though the idea of her being on her own and doing this made the salt water sting his eyes, how had it come to this, how come she'd got this bad? Before he even knew it the words had slipped out in a sigh 'how did it get to this?'

He saw Greg tense again and realised he hadn't phrased the question well 'I just said…'

He interrupted before he got too far 'no, not today, just, how come no one noticed that this was going on for so long?'

Greg shrugged, shaking his head, turning away as he busied himself 'I don't know man, I really don't know. She wasn't the same after her accident, after you left, but there were so many changes around the place that it was hard to tell, she just slipped away, we didn't go out much, you know, as a group, all too busy with our own stuff, and when we did she wasn't there. It wasn't until Dubenko pulled us up on it that I became aware that something was wrong' he suddenly lashed out at the wall, leaving a small dent where his hand had hit 'Damn it, I even told him that there was nothing wrong with her, that she'd tell me if there was, more fool me'

The room fell silent, neither Abby nor Ray knowing what to say in response to that.

'Why are you here Ray?' The subject change was instant.

'Here here? Or Chicago here?' he wasn't being deliberately dense, surely Abby had told Greg that he was back to work, though now that he thought about it they'd had made important things to discuss.

Greg shrugged again 'does it make a difference?'

His gaze was once again fixed on Neela's face, no it didn't make a difference, both questions held the same answer, he was here for her, to maybe, possibly make some dreams a reality. But he wasn't going to admit to that here, or to anyone other than himself 'you talked to Moretti for me, remember? I spoke to him afterwards he worked some things out so that I could come back, found me an apartment'

'So you're back here to work?'

'Yeah'

'And you didn't think to tell us you were coming back when we spoke to you?'

Ray found himself running a hand through his hair, scanning the room with his eyes before looking down at his feet, in the past he would have shuffled them as well, but that wasn't something he did these days; these were his nervous gestures, the things he did when he was unsure of himself or putting himself out there. He'd done every step of this nervous routine, right down to the shuffle, the night Neela moved out as he worked up the courage to tell her how he felt and here he was doing it again 'I didn't know if I could do it, it was one thing to say I wanted to come back, but actually to do it, I was scared. I'm not the same person I was when I was here before, I wasn't sure I could deal with it, if people would treat me differently because of what happened. I thought if I didn't say anything, if being back in Chicago was too hard, I could leave without having to admit I was a failure'

'But didn't you think it might have made a difference to Neela?' it was Abby that responded this time, asking the question he'd been asking himself all afternoon.

'I don't know, I thought about it, believe me I thought about it, but I didn't want to let her down if it didn't work out…' his voice trailed away.

'But if she'd known you were coming back now she might not have done this'

'I know what I just said, but I don't think it would have made any difference, Greg. You saw how she's been the last few days. I honestly don't think it would have stopped her, even if Ray had been standing in front of her trying to take the scalpel out of her hand, this was what she wanted'

It felt like Abby had just thrust that scalpel into his chest and was now gyrating it as it sliced and twisted in his heart 'she was that bag?' the words caught in his throat as he spoke.

Abby turned to face him, and he saw the stark honesty in her eyes and heard a softening in her voice 'yeah, she's been that bad'

'Abby's right, if I'm honest I don't think she'd have realised you were there'

Fuck, he blinked back the tears as he gazed unseeingly at Neela, he could have stopped her, if he'd got that message in time, if he'd rung her back, he, maybe, could have made a difference 'she called me' he hadn't intended to tell them yet, the words just slipping out, wanting to share the burden he was feeling with the others.

They looked at each other and then back at him 'what?' The words came out in tandem.

'She called me this afternoon, but I didn't hear it, I got the voicemail on my way here'

Abby's eyes were shining with moisture when they met his 'what…' she swallowed sharply, her voice thick with tears 'what did she say?'

A tear spilled down his face 'goodbye… she said goodbye'

0-0-0-0

_It was like something was pulling me, dragging me to the surface, like I was waking from a deep sleep, but that couldn't be the case, could it? I shouldn't be waking up, should I? I could hear noise on the periphery not loud enough to make out specifics, just loud enough to know there was something there. If it had worked I shouldn't be able to hear noise should I? There was no sound once you were dead, so how could I still hear? Perhaps everything I'd ever learnt about death was wrong, perhaps there was an afterlife, an afterlife with quiet sounds, peaceful noise, that had to be it, didn't it? _

_But I was becoming more aware of the noises, the fog around my head slowly parting and they weren't the sounds of the afterlife, not how I was imagining it to be, I could hear voices, still indistinct, but voices all the same. I could hear mechanical sounds, a rhythmical beep, almost like a heartbeat, a sound that in my mind represented the presence of a heart beat. It couldn't be mine; surely it couldn't be mine, could it? My heart should have stopped on that bathroom floor. Perhaps, perhaps, but I couldn't come up with anything that it could be in the afterlife. _

_The voices were becoming clearer now, more individual, and more identifiable. Two male, one female. One with a southern lilt, a lilt I'd heard first thing in the morning, and last thing at night, but that couldn't be so, it couldn't be the case, _I_ was dead, _I'd_ finally, unequivocally ended things, hadn't I? _

_That was definitely… But why was he here? Ah, unless the afterlife was a place filled with all the people you treasured the most, that could answer it, couldn't it? And it did, until I slowly, torturously started to make out the individual words, sentences, the sentiments being exchanged and I knew that wasn't the case, I'd failed, as with everything else, I'd failed once again at taking my own life and I was going to have to face it again, face them again, face him again, because for some bizarre, incomprehensible, reason he'd returned to my world just as I was trying to leave it. Slowly painfully, excruciatingly I prised my eyes apart to meet the full impact of his shining, hazel green eyes gazing down at me. Eyes that I'd seen so many times when awake and when dreaming, colours I'd thought I'd said goodbye to as the blade slipped into my skin._


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own ER. No, you're not imagining it, this is the long, long overdue update to Guilt. Sorry for the length of this authors note, I'm afraid I've got a bit to say! **

**I could come up with many excuses for why its taken me so long to write this but I won't, I'll just say that if I'd been allowed to kill Neela it would have been finished a few chapters ago, but you, you know who you are, begged me not to so... I struggled with this, and wrote so many drafts, and then got stuck after the first few chapters until I watched Under Pressure last week and managed to finish this in one sitting, so for once thanks goes to the ER scriptwriters. In the last couple of days I've also come to the conclusion that I've been holding of posting this as I don't want it to end, but it has to, so here it is.**

**I want to say a big thank you to Modscho for her support, and Oceans of Ashes for putting up with my rants and making me feel not so bad for taking so long to update, and to everyone else for their kind reviews, thank you they've meant a great deal to me. Well guys, this is it, I hope you enjoy, reviews as always are love.**

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_There's a black coffee in front of me, I've not touched it since I placed it there on the wobbly beech table in this beige inspired coffee house. Before I leave I'll drink it, swallow down what most likely will be the cold, bitter water but for now it just sits there, steaming, as I gaze out the window. Its early rush hour, people bustling their way to work, pushing and shoving their way along the pavement, the rain splattering on the ground around them but I'm not really seeing them, I'm not peering at the shoes and bags wondering where they bought them, I'm not wondering where they're going, I'm not thinking about what's in the lunch bag in their hand; instead I'm staring through them, past them, no longer in the present, in a world of my own._

_A year's passed now, a year that I once never dreamed would exist for me but as I stare out that wide expanse of glass, past the dark brown, leather couches, and the beech, upright chairs, its as if only a moment has passed, only a minute since I heard a machine rhythmically echoing my heart beat, a second since it dawned on me that those murmurs were voices, and the briefest period of time since I realised that he was there by my side. As I gaze out of those rain soaked panes, I don't see the blackness or the wetness, all I see is a greenish, slate grey room and those eyes, those eyes were the first I saw that day, eyes so full of emotion that they would have made anyone choke. I know now that what I was seeing was love; love and fear, and pain and guilt, but most of all love, but back then it was all too much for me to comprehend. At that time there was only one thing I knew and that was that I was somewhere I never thought I'd be again, somewhere I'd had no intention of seeing again, surrounded by people that I'd said my goodbyes to a few hours earlier on a cold, stark, tiled floor. And the only thing I could feel was numb._

_That first night was the longest night, he hardly left my side for twenty four hours, I closed my eyes and he was there, and he was still there when I opened them, making sure that I was never alone. My eyes were closed a lot that night, it was easier than having to look at him, at any of them, easier than having to deal with the reality of my existence. And at some point during that first night, when my eyes had slid shut in feigned sleep, I'd heard him whisper those three words that should have meant so much. I just lay there, pretending to sleep, how could I tell him that I no longer knew what love was? That I could tell red from blue, an apple from a banana, warm from cold, but I no longer could tell joy from sorrow, happy from sad; that I couldn't remember what love felt like. My emotions had died as the blood started to drain from my body, as my life was meant to end, and though my body and mind had been brought back to life, they still lay there, in a bathroom, in an apartment block, alone, lacking the oxygen they needed to survive._

_Over the next few days I realised how they felt, surrounded by all my friends and colleagues, and him, I'd never felt so alone. They asked so many questions, looked at me with such pity and concern as if they wanted to understand why I'd done what I'd done, what they could do to make things right, but there was nothing they could do, nothing they could say, when it came down to it, it was my battle to fight if that's what I wanted to do. They could give me all the medication, all the counselling, all the support, in the world but if I didn't want to be there, if I wanted to find another way out, I'd be able to find a way, and they knew that. I can only imagine how soul destroying that must have been for them, but at the time all I knew was that I was alone, that my life, to live it or to end it, that decision lay in my hands and no one else's. In those first days I didn't have the strength to fight, either for it or against it, I just lay there, as good as died, as the hustle and bustle of the hospital continued around me._

_I take a sip of the lukewarm liquid in front of me, momentarily distracted by the heated words being exchanged between the barista and a customer at the counter, over the presence of half fat or full fat soya milk in a grande latte, and find myself smirking at the banality of the whole situation. Who really cares whether its full fat or half fat in the greater scheme of things, its never going to be on that list of regrets when you're lying on your deathbed, is it? I feel my lips raise in a smile and allow myself to sink back into my thoughts._

_It took me a long time to realise why they kept coming back, why they wouldn't leave me alone like I wanted. In my mind I was a waste of space, no good to anyone, yet these people kept coming back despite me ignoring them, pushing them away, shouting at them. My behaviour was awful to say the least, I can admit that now, but despite how bad it was there was normally someone there when I opened my eyes, usually one or two visitors each day, and more often than not it was Ray. Their persistence slowly ate away at my resistance and I began to realise that they weren't there out of some deep seated guilt or pity but because they genuinely cared about me enough to put up with all my shit, and I realised that perhaps I wasn't such a terrible person after all. This was no mind altering epiphany out of the blue, it was gradual, something I wasn't really conscious of until I realised that I'd started fighting again. It was hard, harder than hard, I realised first hand that there's no easy cure for depression, that wanting to be better doesn't make you better, it doesn't matter what causes it you can't decide to flick a switch one day and be well again, I would have loved to, but you can't. Like everything that's worth it it was gradual, not even a day at a time, but slowly, an hour, a moment, at a time; one minute I'd be fine, feeling fairly positive and then the smallest thing, a new patient in my therapy session, a tangled sheet, an overly stewed cup of tea, could send me spiralling back into the blackness._

_Those first couple of months it was easier to count the good moments than the bad they were so infrequent, but, again, gradually they increased until I could go for days without one and then one would sneak up and plunge me back into the darkness. Those days were the worst, when its your state of being you don't realise how bad it is, but when you're getting used to smiling and laughing and you hit one of those dark periods, and they still were darker than dark, it hits you with such a force, and you can't understand why it happened, or that you were happy just before so why weren't you now, and all those questions just make the battle harder._

_I was lucky though, I had all these friends to support me, once I let them in, once I let them help me, and they never gave up on me and they never let me give up. I'm grateful for that now, its easier to fight when you know you've got all these people on your side, even if you don't realise it at the time. And I was even more grateful for Ray, I remember recalling something he'd once said to me 'you're the best friend I ever had', he once again became that for me. He was always there, at most a telephone call away, no matter how he was feeling or how much pain he was in. He'd finished growing up after his accident, who wouldn't in the circumstances, but he wasn't bitter, he was just getting on with his life, not letting it stand in his way, and it seemed that an important part of that was making sure I was okay._

_It was clear to both of us that I wasn't ready for anything romantic, I think we both realised that whatever it was between us was so much more than just a romance, that when it happened we both wanted it to last, to be a rest of our lives sort of thing. So we kept it at arms length as I recovered and we rebuilt our friendship, and we found our way back to what we were before our hearts got so embroiled._

_When I was finally released, I think most of my friends assumed I'd stay with Ray for a bit, or maybe forever, but that would have pushed things along too quickly, it would have been impossible to deny those feelings, that attraction, that was always between us, instead Abby offered me their spare room. Luka's father had died not long after that night, and after arranging the funeral, and sorting out all the legal matters, he'd returned to Chicago, and County. I was well enough by the time he returned to notice the difference is presence made to Abby; she was more carefree, less stressed, lighter, as if a weight had been lifted, and when they offered to let me stay I accepted gratefully._

_I'm jostled from my thoughts as a stroller hits the leg of my chair, one of those ones with the oversize wheels designed for off road trekking not navigating the narrow spaces between the tables. I meet the woman's eyes and she scowls at me as if I'm intentionally getting in her way, I feel a deep sigh rising inside me, and almost stick my tongue out at her in a childish response, instead I retreat to thoughts of a far more pleasant family._

_I think spending time with Joe was perhaps the final push I needed, he was so alive, so bouncy, getting into everything, and getting away with it with his innocent smile and sweet words. He was, and still is, a little monkey, when I stayed there nothing was private from his prying hands, I was just relieved that he had yet to learn to read when I found him ensconced in my journal. Being with him made me realise that I wanted that for myself, I wanted to be a part of a family, like Abby and Luka's, and that was one more reason for me to fight even harder during the bleak periods, there was no way I was subjecting a child to my lows until I knew I could deal with them._

_I stayed with them for a few months, near the end of which I started back at County, taking it slowly, easing my way back in a few shifts at a time. I offered to go back to my apartment a number of times before that, but they wouldn't hear of it, not until all of us – them, Ray, my doctors and myself – were in agreement that I was ready for it. It was daunting to say the least. I was scared that as soon as the door shut, and I was alone, I would fall apart, a fairly reasonable fear I guess. To start with it seemed like it wasn't going to be an issue as I was never allowed to be alone, I'd get in from work and my buzzer would go and there would be Ray with a DVD and takeaway, or my phone would ring and it would be Sam asking me to a movie. In the end it was me that had to say that I would be okay on my own, that if I need anyone I'd call, that I wouldn't break, and eventually I got through to them. Ray was the hardest to convince, perhaps because he felt he had the most to lose if I was wrong, but I wasn't and I needed to know that. It took me a while to get used to not always having something to do, someone to see, but, despite a few tearful phone calls, and late night visits, I got used to it. I was independent again._

_I should have told Ray then that I was ready to explore what was between us, but I didn't. I told myself that I wasn't ready, that I didn't want to mess up what we'd rebuilt, but I was lying to myself, and he let me. He says he didn't want to push me into something I wasn't ready for. So that was it, I was friends, the best of friends, with a guy I'd loved for almost all of the time I'd known him and I don't think anything would have changed if it hadn't been for an incident one afternoon in the ER when I woke up to the reality of my actions, or the lack of them._

_My recollection of it is fairly hazy, once I knew that Ray was involved the panic took over. I only became aware of what was happening when County was evacuated, there were patients and doctors and nurses rushing around the ambulance bay and all anyone was saying was that there was a hostage situation in the ER, three doctors being held at gunpoint. Ray had been off shift for a couple of hours so I wasn't that worried about him, I should have known better of course, but I found myself, as odd as it seemed, worrying about Dustin. He was on the ER rota that day and he'd disappeared downstairs an hour or so earlier, and I hadn't seen him since. I managed to catch hold of Sam as she ushered patients out of the way to ask her if she'd seen Dusty. My heart dropped to the ground when she told me he was still inside with Ray. I just stood there as she moved away, the idea that Ray was in there churning in my mind. It was while I was out there, in the cold, dark night, that I realised that I'd been lying to myself, telling myself that I didn't want to spoil our friendship by taking things further whereas in reality, I was just too damn scared that I might get hurt, that I might lose him again. I'd done exactly what I'd done after Michael died, well, not quite, there was no Tony this time, but it was close. I'd kept telling myself that our time would come, that it would all work out, but the question that was resounding in my head was, had we had too many second chances already?_

_The relief that coursed through me when word filtered out that they were all okay, that the gunman had been taken down was immense, and when I was finally allowed back inside, and I found myself at his side, seeing him shaken but otherwise unhurt, I just couldn't stop myself from pulling him into my arms, I never wanted to let go. And from the way he was clinging to me neither did he. Crenshaw told me afterwards, while he was still fairly worked up from it, that Ray had been amazing, so controlled, unfazed, he'd tried reasoning with the guy, even when he had a gun pointed at him, and had managed to get the guy to hand over his gun just before the marksman shot him. Ray said that he'd felt for the guy, that he'd been trying to make a life for him and his girlfriend, and it had gotten to the point where money was so tight that they felt that the only thing they could do to survive was rob a store, hence the gun. He was pleading with them to save his girlfriend who'd been hurt in the incident, saying that they had to fix her even when it was apparent that that wasn't possible, and that that had reminded him of that afternoon in Trauma 1 when he'd been so certain that he'd lost me. They'd called it just before he handed over the gun and Ray said he'd just fallen apart. All I knew was that this guy had made me see what I was denying myself, this wonderful, brave, caring man who wanted to spend the rest of his life loving me, and for that I was immensely grateful._

_As I glance over the breath steals from my lungs. He pushes his rain soaked hood down as he searches me out. It's been a hard shift, I can tell, its not just the scrubs he's wearing, its in the way he's holding himself, the way he's moving, like even the slightest movement aches like you wouldn't believe. But I do believe it and seeing him like this makes me ache as well. He's still glancing around, searching, and as his eyes fall on me they light up, sparkling with the intensity of feelings they hold. We've been on opposite shifts for the last few days and despite sharing an apartment these few minutes over a cup of coffee as we pass are all the time we've shared during them, and they're what makes the hardest shift bearable. As he grabs a coffee at the counter, I step back into my thoughts._

_There was no more going slow after that day, we moved my stuff into his apartment the following weekend, and it wasn't destined for his spare room. I lift my head again and smile, almost four and a half years after I moved out we were roomies again, and if I have my way that will never change, I've realised something over the last few months, that that man making his way through the coffee shop towards me is the man I'm meant to love for the rest of my life and, as he leans down to meet my lips with his, I promise myself that I'll make sure that happens._


End file.
